The Evil That Men Do
by goblinesque
Summary: Bagheera Lewis is not his Clarice Starling, but the world does not believe that. She finally has a life and people that care about her, but she is once again brought back to the case of the Joker when a murderer begins re-creating famous murder scenes which from the madman's manifesto will lead to her death.
1. Eco-Terrorists

**Chapter 1: Eco-Terrorist**

**So here's the first chapter to the second story to A Comedy of Errors. If you haven't read that one yet, I highly suggest you do because you will have no idea what is going on in this story :)**

**Also I only own my characters. Though I do use my imagination when dealing with other villainous Gothamites, but I still can't claim them. **

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Bagheera laid on the van's leather seats, which smelled of gun powder and sweat, in a soft slumber. Her night had been plagued by nightmares with smiling clowns and loud explosions. The nightmares and lack of sleep had secretly plagued her since the events of the Joker two years ago; the only good thing that had come out of the Joker being put away was that the media had laid off of her. She had seen the precinct's shrink just for show in an attempt to get her colleagues and William Barba off of her case. She had made a habit of telling everyone that she was fine and that she hadn't really been affected by the killer clown, and at times she believed it herself, but late at night when she lay beside Barba in his large home, the dark images would find her. She lay in the light slumber and her simple black collared shirt rose just enough to show off the scar that the Joker had left her with. The men that surrounded her took in the old wound and each one felt a shiver of unease come through them. Each one had an interaction with the mad man, but none of them had wounds like the woman that lay in front of them.

"What's her problem," a Gotham police officer on the low end of the totem pole asked in a thick Gotham accent that told everyone in hearing distance that he spent his whole life in the Gotham Narrows and probably still resided within its poverty lines.

"She was up all night getting ready for this," Detective Mark Hamill, Bagheera's current partner since Angela Ramirez had resigned, informed the team of undercover police officers in annoyance, "So you better give her some respect."

Mark Hamill stood an even six foot with an All American boy next door look to him. He held the lightest of brown eyes and razor cut blond hair. He had been the quarterback for his high school football team which led to a scholarship at Gotham University where he managed to pass every class with honors. Mark held himself like a proud man when he entered a room and he had a slightly crooked grin that lit up that room. He was well on his way to gain a place at Quantico to become an FBI agent once he made a name for himself in Gotham City. He and Bagheera worked well together and had brought down several criminals while the Joker lay dormant in his cell at Arkham Asylum.

Bagheera shivered from the November chill that found its ways through the cracks of the old van. The van was white. Old bullet holes from previous raids had been patched up many times before so it simply looked like the van was a piece of junk that was owned by a clumsy driver. Bagheera opened her blue eyes to see the men looking down at her with intrigued eyes. She felt the cool air move underneath her shirt and she quickly pulled herself up from her laying position.

"So what's this all about," another officer, who was a fresh baby face straight out of the police academy, asked.

"This location has been identified as a meeting area for the Eco Gang," Mark informed them, "Our informant has told us that there is a meeting between the big shots to determine their next target. The Eco Gang target businesses and the wealthy in a deluded attempt to read the world of what they call 'terrorists against the world'. They are very, very dangerous," Mark looked over to his partner and suggested, "You should warn them about Pam."

Bagheera nodded at her partner and looked to the men that had been loaned out to them for backup, "Pamela Isley has been a rising star in the eco-terrorist front. She has connection to every leading sect in the United States and Canada. Before she decided to enter a life of crime as an eco-terrorist, she was a very important member of the botany department at GU. She uses this training in developing the explosives that the gang uses against corrupt businesses."

Bagheera held a photograph of the red headed Pam dressed in a doctor's coat holding a large Venus Fly Trap that she had taken care of while a professor at Gotham University. Her smile seemed to sparkle as she held the plant tightly in her arms as if it were her own child.

"She's dangerous," Bagheera warned the officers that looked at the photograph with a look of disbelief, "I've arrested her twice. The first time the Batman interrupted our sting op. She was carrying a nine millimeter in her purse with the five magazines ready on the side, a bottle of her special mace hooked on her hip, and a pair of freshly sharpened scissors in her bra. She was a wild animal."

"Pam Isley goes by the name Poison Ivy," Mark added, "The tips of those scissors are laced with a deadly poison from a plant from West Africa. In that first raid, she killed two men."

"The second time we cornered her," Bagheera said as if she were telling a casual story from her childhood, "I asked her to surrender and she surrendered without a problem. She was very polite and she gave up all of her weapons when asked."

"She don't look too bad," the thick accented officer said with a shrug of his shoulder as he took in the picture of the simple, yet beautiful, woman.

"She's even more unpredictable than the Joker," Bagheera informed them, "If she doesn't surrender peacefully, I expect some real help. Now, gentlemen," she eyed each one of the men that looked at her, "don't think this is going to be some cat fight between two girls that you can hoot and holler for. She is very dangerous. She is HIV positive, which she contracted from a high school boyfriend, so be careful around her. She could spit, bite, cut herself just to get away from you. Be careful when you place her into custody, she could have dirty needles in her hair or needles adorning her outfit. I cannot reiterate how dangerous she is."

"Well one look at me-"

"No," Bagheera interrupted in quick anger, her blues eyes sparkled from the sudden flash of anger at the sexually rude comment that the officer was about to make, "This isn't the time for macho man bullshit."

"Bagheera," Mark whispered in an attempt to calm her sudden change in attitude. He had learned that since the events of the Joker, she had lost a considerable amount of patience with men that wanted to demean her knowledge on the criminals that tried to rule the city.

"No," Bagheera continued on with her previous level tone, "She is not interested in men since what her old boyfriend did to her. In fact, she would rather you all be dead than alive. She has been seen with a string of female lovers. One of which died under mysterious circumstances when she was going to testify against her at our request the first time we brought her in."

The van came to a slow halt in front of the large abandoned plant. Bagheera looked out the darkened windows to see the large building that barreled over the top of them like a reigning monarch. She pulled on her bulletproof vest and placed her weapon in its home on her hip.

"Let's get this done good and clean," Mark informed the team, "It would be nice to have a bloodless takedown."

Bagheera ignored her partner as she opened the sliding door of the old van and pulled herself out. She looked to the roof and smiled inwardly when she did not see the sign of the Batman looking down on them in anticipation of knowing that they would screw up.

"You okay," she heard Mark as he walked beside her, "You didn't sleep again last night did you?"

"Not really," she answered in a whisper so the others couldn't overhear them, "I'm still suffering from nightmares. I mean," she shrugged as they stopped at the closed door, "I don't have them as bad as before, but they're still there."

"If you need to take some time off after this-"

"No," she answered as the thick accented officer busted the door down, "I'm good."

Bagheera and Mark rushed into the building with their weapons ready. They watched each other's back as they moved through the dark maze of the building. They could smell fertilizer and gun powder as they walked deeper into the building.

Laughter erupted throughout the building around the two detectives. Bagheera looked with sharp eyes for any sign of the woman named Poison Ivy.

"You go with them," Bagheera whispered to Mark.

"I'm not-"

"I have a better chance of living through this than you do," she informed him in an even tone as they continued to move down the long, dark hall, "You go find those men."

"Come on Lew Lew, I see you haven't brought the Batman," the dark, feminine voice announced with a dark chuckle, "Can't catch me."

Bagheera nodded to her partner who slowly walked away from her to catch up with the other officers.

"Pam," Bagheera hollered through the darkness, "You have nowhere else to go," she placed her back against the wall as she came to a turn, "You really think the men in the Eco Gang take you seriously? All you are to them is a girl that can make some shit bomb," Bagheera smiled at her own clever joke about fertilizer made bombs.

"I think you spent too much time with the Joker," Poison Ivy announced from somewhere in the darkness.

The detective moved quickly away from the side of the wall and trained her gun with steady hands on the darkness in front of her.

"Where are you Pam?"

"Here," the criminal announced with a dark laugh as she dropped from the pipes that slithered above her. Pam smiled at her as she looked down at the gun.

"Nice outfit Poison," Bagheera said sarcastically as she took in the woman's green leather dress that fit her curves tightly to lure weak minded men to their death, "You take the beautiful, but deadly appeal from your Venus Fly Trap? Didn't some shithead student kill it?"

Bagheera pointed her gun at the woman's head as she watched anger ripple through Ivy's vivid green eyes. The detective couldn't help the smile that painted her own features as she watched the criminal's attitude change so suddenly.

"Bagheera, darling," the almost purr like voice of Poison Ivy said in contained anger as she glared at the detective, "You always surprise me at how you made it in a world dominated by men without getting a little dirty."

"It wasn't easy," Bagheera answered casually as she trained her weapon on the woman, "Now you want to help me continue climbing that ladder until I break that glass ceiling by surrendering to me?"

...

Bagheera smiled as she looked down at the wonderful meal that sat in front of her. The penguin like tuxedo wearing waiter poured her and William Barba a very expensive red wine. She couldn't help the smile that painted her red lips. She placed a white cloth napkin upon her lacey red and black dress. Tonight was a special night for her and William Barba who sat across from her with a happy smile upon his face as he took in her triumphant smile.

"To Detective Lewis," Barba announced with a proud smile as he raised his glass of wine to her, "for taking down another criminal."

Bagheera smiled as she allowed the tip of her wine glass to clink against his.

"She wanted to blow up your building, District Attorney Barba," she said with a happy chuckle, "because you let Bobby Falcon off."

Barba chuckled as he fiddled with the box in his pocket. Nervousness riddled his body as he took in his longtime girlfriend. She had stuck by him through the stress of running for DA and he had stuck by her while she tried to get over what the Joker had done to her. He had spent hours looking for the perfect ring that could explain to the world how much he loved Bagheera Lewis.

"It was needed," Barba informed her with a charming smile, "I'd prefer having a rapist behind bars. We can always get Falcon on something else."

She shrugged her shoulders as she offered him her prettiest smiles, "I give him less than a month before the Batman catches him for you."

Barba reached out to her and held her hands in his own. He gave her a small, reassuring squeeze as she looked down at the gesture with slight confusion on her face. He knew that she had learned that he only gave her reassuring touches when something potentially life changing was going to happen to her. He allowed his thumb to absently rub soft circles upon her palm as his free hand dug into his pocket for the small, velvet box that contained a beautiful ring.

"Bagheera," Barba asked as he hid the box just beneath the table so she couldn't see it, "I want to ask you something."

Bagheera's blue eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat as she watched Barba slowly pull the box from underneath the table. She felt her mind race and her heart slow as she watched him fiddle with the box in his hand.

"Bagheera," he asked as he looked away from the box and into her blue eyes that sparkled while his thumb continued to draw circles upon her hand, "Will you," he paused as he watched tears fill her eyes and pull her right hand away from his hand to hold in her gasp that wanted to escape, "…go to the Gotham Giants vs. Metropolis Mustangs football game? My sister's boyfriend is the coach there."

"What," Bagheera asked in confusion at the strange question as she looked down at the red velvet box that he still fiddled with in his nervousness.

"No," Barba said as he patted her hand and pulled away from her to open the small box, "I want to ask if you would give me the honor in being your husband?"

The tears that Bagheera's eyes had collected fell down her cheek as the light hit the solitaire diamond surrounded by a simple love knot. The diamond and the beautifully polished silver sparkled as the light hit them as he presented her the shining, expensive ring. She could feel the eyes of the surrounding patrons looking towards them with happy whispers.

"Oh my God," Bagheera whispered as she neared breathlessness as she looked down at the engagement ring. She shook her head in disbelief. She had known that he would be asking soon. They had dated for a long time, they had had their ups and downs during her time trying to get over the events that the Joker had put her through and the stress of an early campaign, but for the most part William Barba had been perfect for her and seemed to think the same of her. She did love him. He was the first man that she had ever felt such intense, confusing feelings for. He made her happy and when she wasn't happy, he would reassure her with a simple touch that everything would turn out fine.

"So," he said with a slowly forming smile, she could see his nervousness as he watched her carefully for her answer, "Am I going to have a Mrs. Bagheera Barba in my life?"

She smiled as she slipped the ring upon her finger and pulled herself away from her chair in haste. She hurried over to his side in excitement that even to her seemed out of place.

"Of course I will," Bagheera said through happy tears as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly not ever wanting to let him go. She closed her eyes and took in his cologne as he squeezed her in return. She could hear random patrons clapping for them as she reluctantly pulled away from his warm embrace that made her feel safe from all the vile things in the world.

"I love you," she whispered the same words that she had whispered so many times before.

"I love you too Baggy," Barba said, allowing the Joker's nickname for her to slip off his tongue by mistake.

Bagheera sat back in her place as the waiter came to check on them. A bubble of uneasiness danced inside of her stomach for only a moment at the sound of the old nickname. She wiped the sudden tears of happiness away from her cheeks as she looked down at her new ring that shone bright on her finger.

"It's so pretty," she said with the lingering effects of astonishment still on her face as she took in the beauty that Barba had placed upon her finger.

"I think you've just made me the-"

Bagheera's cell phone rang loudly, interrupting her future husband's stereotypical admission of how she had made him the happiest man in the world. A look of annoyance and slight embarrassment came over her as she pulled her cell phone from her small black handbag. Gordon's name peered back at her and she looked at Barba with a simple roll of her eyes.

"It's Gordon," she said as she took the call.

"Not a good time," she answered as she looked to her future husband who picked up his glass of wine in a successful attempt to pretend that he was not listening in on her conversation. Bagheera gave him a soft smile at his valiant effort.

"It's about the Joker," Gordon informed her.

Bagheera's blood ran cold as countless possibilities rushed through her mind. Her eyes quickly took in her surroundings in an attempt to locate any men that may be working for the Joker, but she only witnessed the elites of Gotham and the few lucky Gothamites that had saved up for a night in the luxurious diner.

Barba watched as the blood seemed to rush away from her face and her bright eyes faded as what seemed to be dread filled those eyes that had been filled with happiness only moments ago.

"What's wrong," he asked as he reached for her visibly shaking hand.

Bagheera jerked her hand away from him before his skin touched hers.

"Did he escape," she asked, her voice was small as she awaited the answer.

"I need you to come-"

"Did he escape," she asked once again, this time her voice was filled with venom.

"Bagheera," Gordon answered, "I need you to come in now."

She listened as the other end of the line went dead from her boss hanging up on her. Her heart sank at the thought of the Joker escaping Arkham. She had the sick feeling in her stomach that he would come for her. She had left him with two more holes in his body, she was sure that he would add a few holes to her as an act of revenge for what she had actually accomplished against him.

"I…uhh," she looked around the restaurant and then to the district attorney that had just asked her to marry him, she bit at her lip and shook her head, "I am so sorry Will," she choked the sob of fear that wanted to escape her, "I have to," she paused as she bit at her bottom lip, "I have to go to work."

"What is it," Barba asked as he watched her slip out of the chair, carrying her small handbag with her. He felt a sense of sudden estrangement come over him as he watched his fiancée walk towards the coat check to grab her black coat before she exited the warmth of the restaurant to enter the cold, November world outside.

...

Bagheera stepped out of the cab in front of the Gotham PD just as she had done from the start of her career back in Gotham City. The many memories from that day until the Joker had been convicted ripped through her mind as she looked up to the tall stone building that loomed above her.

Her black heels slid from under her as she walked towards the icy stairs, but she quickly caught herself before she busted her tailbone on the hard cement. Her heart beat as adrenaline moved through her. She had bravely faced off with the Joker, but the thought of having to do it all over again now that she actually had a life and people that cared about her scared her beyond belief.

She hurried through the hallways until she found Jim Gordon standing in front of a picture of the Joker that had been placed on a projector and thrown against the wall. Her partner stood beside him as they seemed to share some secret conversation.

"Gordon," Bagheera announced her arrival as she hurried towards the two men. She tried to hide the worry that crossed her features as they turned to look at her. Mark turned to look at her with a look of surprise as he took in her 'dressed up fancy' appearance. He watched as she stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, but his quick eyes had caught the glint of a new ring on her finger. He allowed a knowing smile cross his face he took in his blue eyed partner in crime fighting.

"Wow," Mark announced playfully as he looked her over in amazement, taking in the slight curvature of her bare legs that her dress allowed to show, it was something that no one in the precinct had seen before from her, "I've always said the DA was a lucky man, but damn you are too good lookin' for a smug bastard like him."

Bagheera gave him a soft smile, but it quickly escaped her as she looked back to Gordon and the worry replaced the smile as she said with almost tangible worry in her voice, "The Joker?"

"You remember Crawford," Gordon asked simply.

Bagheera's brows furrowed as she recalled the man that had been trying to gain a date with her, "Gregory Crawford," she answered, "He is the head of Arkham Asylum. He took Jonathon's position after..."

"Well he's called," Gordon informed her, "It seems that the Joker won't speak with him or acknowledge his existence."

"Still," Bagheera asked with what sounded to the men as disbelief.

"He has a new psychiatrist that he does talk with," Gordon informed her as he looked over to Mark.

"I've collected a little background on her for you," Mark said proudly as he handed her a manila file, "I decided to save you the leg work."

Bagheera opened it to see a photograph of a pretty, young blonde woman with a promising glint in her pale blue eyes that seemed to shine just as brightly as hers. Her ring glinted in the wind

"Harleen Quinzel," Bagheera read aloud. Her brows furrowed as she tried to recall where she had seen the name before.

"Crawford doesn't think that anything unprofessional is going on between the two," Mark insisted as he watched Bagheera's look of confusion cross her face as she continued to read the file he had gathered, "Is something wrong?"

"I recognize this name," she informed him as she moved over to her desk where the large file on the Joker laid hidden beneath the other files that she had collected over the last few years, "Here," she pulled the file open and pointed to one of the previous diagnosis on the Joker, "this is the only in depth diagnosis based off of the footage that the Joker had submitted to the news stations."

Mark took the file away from her and took in the slightly dusty smell that had accumulated around it from months and months of being stuck at the bottom of the drawer.

"The Joker, from archival footage," Mark read aloud, "seems to suffer from a manic state of depression probably evolved from severe scarring to the face, delusions of grandeur, and likely a form of anti-social personality disorder described by several stories of the victims. This diagnosis is in no way permanent and only based on given evidence from the Gotham City PD. More will be known if the criminal known as the Joker if he is captured alive and sent to Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane," he looked over to Bagheera then Gordon and nodded, "Signed Dr. Harleen Quinzel."

"If the good doc made this I can bet my bottom dollar that she's only talking to the Joker to make herself famous," she informed the two, "and what better way to get famous is to diagnose a high profile killer?"

"The Joker is using her own ambition against her," Mark asked as he connected the dots. Bagheera smiled and nodded at him. They worked brilliantly together. She never had to connect the dots for him. He had always followed her line of thought every time.

"The road to Hell is lined with ambition," Bagheera said as she took the file away from her partner, "He's trying to do the exact same thing to her that he did with me. He wants to make her famous to manipulate her into thinking that she owes him something."

"You think she will do something," Gordon asked.

"I think that's your call Commish," Mark answered with a shrug, in an attempt to take some of the stress off of his partner and put it on the man that was in charge.

"Still," Gordon said simply, "I want you to go down there. Talk to him. Get an insight into his psychiatrist."

Bagheera nodded at the request and grabbed her badge from her desk drawer. Mark followed behind her with a large smile.

"I always kind of hoped that he'd escape," Mark admitted with the happy grin still pasted upon his face as he caught up to walk beside her towards the door, "How great would it be to get into Quantico with the-"

He stopped midsentence as he realized what he was about to say. He knew that his partner had tried countless times to be re-accepted to the behavioral science unit at Quantico after the Joker incident, but they had sent her notices that the sections had been filled time and time again.

"I'm sorry, Bag," he began, but she quickly cut him off.

"This is a one man job," she informed him as she placed her hand upon the door.

Mark quickly grabbed her hand and whispered, "You don't have to go through this alone."

"No," Bagheera whispered in slight anger, "don't suggest that I need-"

"I wasn't," Mark tried to explain, "I mean," he sighed and looked at her ring and gave her a soft smile of reassurance, "Nice ring. He came to show us last week, he asked if you'd like it. William's a good guy. He really cares about you."

Bagheera smiled at the friendly compliment that her partner had given her. She nodded and whispered her thank you to him as she pushed the door open.

"Be careful," he said to her as he watched her make her way to the elevator to the ground floor.

"Oh," she said as she turned around quickly to look at her smiling partner, "are you going to testify at the Ivy trial Thursday or do you want me to go?"

"You can go," Mark answered with a smile, "I have a few things to do around town that day. My parents are coming in for Thanksgiving this year. How about you and Barba?"

"We'll probably go to his parents' house," she answered with a smile while acknowledging how domestic she felt since falling for William Barba, "They came to his house last year."

They both shared a chuckle just as the elevator doors opened for her to leave Gordon's floor. She took a deep breath as the doors closed back on her, hiding her away from her partner and her co-workers. The silence in the elevator was comforting as she thought about Arkham Asylum and what lurked there.

"It'll be fine Baggy," she whispered to herself and took a deep breath as the door opened with a ding. From her place in the elevator, she could see small flakes of snow falling from the sky. A shiver ran through her as she watched the wind blow the flags from across the street harshly in the sky.

"_You called yourself Baggy, Bagheera."_

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**I hope you liked the first chapter. I wanted to start it with a criminal that hadn't been used in the Dark Knight series so here we have Poison Ivy. And I shamelessly changed her up a bit, I more or less wanted a character with a disease that could be considered fatally poisonous to others. Plus I think it may fit the darkness that I have put into the previous chapters. **

**And we have a little happy Bagheera for a moment! **

**So, so far what do you all think? What about Harleen Quinzel? You think they may get along? What do you think about her new partner (which I totally stole the name Mark Hamill from the Joker's voice actor in the animated series)? I thought a great dynamic duo within the police department was needed sort of like Benson and Stabler from SVU :)**

**Reviews are always welcome! :)**


	2. Into the Dragon's Den

**Chapter 2: Into the Dragon's Den**

**So there is a character from The Animated Series in here (Jack Ryder), that I see as Eric McCormick (aka Will from Will & Grace)**

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Bagheera walked through the double doors into the main lobby of the mental institution. The walls were still covered in the same faded paint from the last time she had visited the Joker a few days after she had shot him in the chest. The strong smell of bleach and pine needle spray wafted in the air as she walked across the recently mopped tile floors. Her heels tapped against the white tiles softly as she made her way towards the main desk to confirm that she was visiting a patient. She smiled brightly at the aging woman that had been working for the hospital for quite a while.

Loud steps and a sudden bright light pursued her as she tried to make her way towards the desk of the elderly woman. She blinked as a recorder was placed in front of her mouth and a camera with the brightest of lights took in her surprised face.

"Detective Lewis," the man said with a demanding voice, who Bagheera immediately recognized as the classic tall, dark, and handsome Jackson "Jack" Ryder, GCN's new playboy anchor. The man could have put Bruce Wayne to shame with his publicized affairs with women. She held her breath as his thick cologne invaded her senses and the fibers of coat.

Jack looked back at the camera and said with his most dramatic voice, "Two years ago, the Clown Prince of Crime, aka The Joker, exploded on the scene of Gotham streets seemingly out of nowhere. He rocked the city with explosions and needless murders of innocent people. It was this," Jack looked over to Bagheera and gave her a quick wink, "lovely detective that the Joker is now behind bars. Can you tell us anything about him Detective Lewis? Who is he? Where did he come from? What do you think he's planning next?"

Bagheera took a calming breath as the camera turned on her to await her answer, "The Joker is planning on having a long stay in Arkham."

Her tone was simple and was obviously not the answer that Jack Ryder had been looking for.

"And what about you," Jack asked, "You have yet to come out to the public of what really happened between you and the Joker that night he kidnapped you. You are aware that people are linking you and the Joker with Clarice Starling and Hannibal the Cannibal? What is your reply to that accusation?"

Bagheera's brows furrowed at the thought of her being the Joker's little Starling. A small smile painted her painted lips as she thought of him calling her 'his little panther'; she was no one's little bird and had never planned on being so. The smile quickly escaped her as she took in the man's deep, dark brown eyes.

"I'm not his Clarice Starling, Mr. Ryder," she informed the TV crew with a harsh tone in an effort to drive home the point that she was in no way in a relationship with the Joker.

"Call me Jack," he informed just before he asked, "and what about what happened that-"

"Wait for the book," she said before adding with a noticeable hint of disgust in her voice, "_Jack._"

Jack glared at her for a nanosecond before the camera panned back to his TV ready, handsome face. He gave the imagined public a large, bright smile as he announced, "You heard it here first, the detective that caught the Joker has broken the news to us that she is going to write an explosive tell all-"

"You can't be here," the slight accent of a Nigerian nurse announced with anger in her voice as she came between Bagheera and the cameras, "Dr. Crawford has told you twice to leave. Now you need to go."

"Thank you," Bagheera whispered with a smile to the nurse who gave her a small nod as she followed the invading television crew out of the hospital. Bagheera took a deep breath, a trick she had learned from her many therapy sessions after the Joker was put away, and walked towards the small desk to the waiting woman.

"What's your name sweetie," the elderly woman asked politely as she opened the visitor's log on her laptop.

"Detective Bagheera Lewis," she answered as she leaned against the counter as the woman typed in her name, "Dr. Crawford asked for me to speak with-"

"The less I know about this place," the woman interrupted with a small, kind smile, "the better, Detective Lewis."

"Tell me about it," Bagheera said in a casual tone as if she had been talking to an old acquaintance from her years of working the beats in Baltimore.

"Dr. Crawford said that he will meet you at the elevator," she informed Bagheera with a smile, "The violent offenders ward is on," the woman paused and gave her a shrug, "Hell sweetie, you put the man here, I'm sure you know where he is."

Bagheera took a deep breath as she recalled the last time that she had visited Arkham. Her feet and her mind had brought her to the hospital while she had been in a strange daze.

"I remember," Bagheera offered with a forced tone of politeness in her voice. As she walked towards the elevator, the eerie silence and cool air brought goose bumps to her skin. She pulled her dark jacket closer to her body in a worthless attempt to keep the cool air away from her flesh. Her mind began to numb as she pressed the button to the violent patients ward where Jonathon Crane had spent the better half of his thirties. She looked down at the floor of the elevator and voided her mind from every bad thought that tried so desperately to enter her mind and pull her down into the depths of despair. Her hand absently played with the engagement ring on her finger as she waited for the elevator to come to a stop. Through the doors, she could hear loud screams coming from deep within the ward reminding her that she had come to a place where the sickest men and women in Gotham had to call home in an attempt to pay for their crimes or genuinely seek help for their various mental conditions. She had to remind herself that only a few of the patients in Arkham were hardened master criminals like the Joker or the Scarecrow and that most of them were genuinely afflicted with a disease that they nor their family members could keep under control.

The elevator opened with a ding. She looked up from the floor to see the pompous, smug smirk of Crawford looking down on her like a buzzard on a dead tree watching a starving, dehydrated animal in the desert.

"Ahh Detective Lewis," Crawford announced happily in a tone that made Bagheera feel like she was wading neck deep through a murky snake and leech infested pond, "You are a pleasure to see again. You are always a sight for sour eyes."

Bagheera ignored him as his eyes moved from her eyes down the length of her clothed body. She watched as his eyes brightened as he took in her exposed legs. She held her breath to keep her from saying something in response to his examining eyes; she needed him to be happy with her so she would have no problem with seeing the Joker.

"Dr. Crawford," Bagheera said in a tired voice in an attempt to pull his eyes away from her shapely legs, "I've had a very long day," her fingers moved through her hair out of a stressful habit as she gave him a forced smile, "I'd like to speak with him and then get on my way."

"Yes," Crawford announced slowly before walking forward in bitterness for yet again not charming the pants off of her, "I'm assuming you remember the rules?"

"Yes," Bagheera answered as she followed his quick footsteps. She had to take large strides in her heels to keep with the long legged man, "He hasn't spoken a word to you since he's gotten here?"

"Nothing except for the occasional joke or vaguely implied threat," Crawford answered in a matter of fact tone, "He's finally opened up to at least one doctor here at Arkham."

"I'll need to talk to Dr. Quinzel as well," Bagheera informed him in the same matching, professional manner, "Per the Commissioner's orders. Is she on duty tonight?"

"Yes, she is scheduled to work tonight," he said as he slid his card into the newly implemented high tech doors to the violent offenders ward, "I do believe she is just finishing up with the Joker. Her time with him was interrupted by Jack Ryder and his ilk."

"Did they get anything from him?"

"Just the vague riddle," Crawford answered with shrug, "But I knew that would happen. It's when they started asking about his treatment here at Arkham that I put an end to the interview."

"Dr. Crawford," she said as they both stopped in front of the violent offenders ward hallway, "He won't open up to me if anyone is there with me. He's comfortable with me," she gave him a soft smile as she added with a shrug, "Somehow he's found it in his mind that I'm his trustworthy ally."

The light at the end blinked as it neared the end of its lifespan. The sound of the heater rumbled through the hallway as it sprang to life to heat the violent offenders.

"Have you figured out why that is," Crawford asked as he looked her over carefully as if trying to find a telling sign that something unprofessional had happened between the officer and the criminal.

"No," she said honestly, "I wouldn't want to get inside his head," she gave him another forced smile as she thought of the old saying about flies and honey, "I have high respect for psychiatrists. You go where others are afraid to go…you boldly go."

Crawford smiled at her sweet words and nodded at her slightly as he tried to find his next words. She had momentarily driven him speechless.

"Uh," Crawford struggled, "Well you can have as much time as you need with him. You did catch him after all."

"Thank you," Bagheera said as she watched the man in the white coat walk away from her with his shoulders held high. She turned away from him with an accomplished smile, she could still manipulate him just as she had done the first time she had met him. She squared her shoulders and took another calming breath as she walked down the hall.

Violent offenders glared at her through the glass walls and metal bars. She could hear men whistling as she walked by their cages. The thought of what had happened to Clarice Starling in _Silence of the Lambs _rippled throughout her mind and she thanked her lucky stars that Arkham had placed a glass wall between the bars and the criminal.

She could see the metal chair that had been placed out for her by the orderly coming closer and closer. She took another deep breath as she felt her heart begin to race in her chest. She hadn't seen him in two years and the many what ifs in her mind raged like a thunderstorm across the desert. The heels that she wore seemed to tighten around her foot as she came within inches of the Joker's cell. A shiver rushed through her spine as she imagined what the Joker looked like now.

The clicking of her heels alerted the Joker to her arrival. She peered into his small cell to see him sitting upon his bed with a bored expression on his face as he looked out the glass wall. She shoved her hands into her coat pocket, careful to keep the engagement ring hidden.

'_Why hide it?'_

"Ahh you came," the Joker responded happily as he took in her dressed to impress attire, "Good! I'm glad it's you! I thought it was that Harley kid again."

Bagheera felt a smile tug at her lips against her will at his high pitched words.

"How's the knife wound," he asked of her as he hopped up from his bed and approached the barrier between them. Bagheera stood far away from the bars as she stood in front of him. She took in his appearance. The make-up had been stolen she could tell and half assed put on. He used old shoe polish and women's lipstick and white Halloween make up that a guard had probably gotten at a deal earlier in the November month from a sale on Halloween products. Bruises around his eyes peered through the make-up and an old cut in his lip indicated to her that he had been beaten by some of the guards or orderlies, whichever group he had pissed off the most.

"It's great," she said as if they were old friends talking about their children with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders, "How's the bullet wound?"

The Joker laughed at her response and clapped his hands as he replied between giggles, "That was a good one Baggy! You were always the uh," he leaned forward, "good sport and always up for the joke."

She began to reply to his comment, but he quickly stopped her from speaking by placing his index finger against his painted lips. Her brows furrowed in confusion and he signaled for her to turn around. She slowly turned and looked to the wall.

"The media wants all the _dirt_ on what happened between you and me," Joker said in a dark, suggestively seductive tone as he watched her move her hands slowly across the red brick wall. The blinking light reflected on the new ring on her finger and he smiled as it sparkled as her hands sprawled against the hard wall.

Bagheera's fingertips grazed against the small recorder that had been wedged between a small crevice in the brick by Jack Ryder's ilk. She gently pulled it out and held it up to the light to inspect it. She smiled as she dropped it and quickly pressed her shoe upon it and smashed it into tiny shards on the cement floor.

"Now," the Joker said slowly as the amused smirk appeared back on his features, "We're free to openly speak," his tone found its old sing song quality as he added, "just like olllddd times, Baggy."

"Well," she said simply with a shrug of her shoulders as she found herself relaxing more and more under his dark gaze, "Here I am," an amused smile formed on her features, "Just like you wanted."

"And you never disappoint, Baggy," he said while he licked his wounded lip and took in her expensive attire, "and you are dressed impress," his voice was high pitched, "Was it all to impress little ol' me?"

"You flatter yourself," Bagheera answered as a brow lifted ever so slightly to drive home the sarcasm in her voice, "Actually I was on a date, a very important date."

"Oh with our new district attorney," the Joker said with amusement in his eyes, "Willy Barbarella. How is little ol' Barbie? You're moving on up in this big, bad world. You go from your cousin in the, uh, corn fields to a man of duh-stinction."

Bagheera shook her head as she glared at the clown and replied, "Don't be vulgar Joker."

"Can I see the ring," he said, putting more emphasis on the first syllables in ring.

"How did you," she stopped as she thought back to rubbing her hands against the wall in order to find the bug. She looked down at the new, almost alien metal on her finger and slowly edged closer to the barrier. She lifted her hand ever so carefully and she watched his reaction closely. She watched as he took in the sparkling diamond ring with bright eyes. The light from the blinking bulbs above them seemed to sparkle in his dark eyes.

"Tell me about your psychiatrist," Bagheera asked as she pulled her hand out of his view, "Some seem to think that she may-"

"Do ya love him Baggy," Joker asked, ignoring her given question.

Her brows furrowed at his sudden question and replied, "You know that I don't have to answer that."

"Does he know everything," the Joker asked suddenly, "about everything you've been through with little old me?"

She shook her head and asked, "What's there to know?"

"Why you missed my heart," he asked with a knowing smile and lowered his eyes so he looked up at her from under his low painted lids. He looked devilish as he stared at her. The Joker seemed to hold her entirely in his dark eyes that had seen countless brutality. Bagheera moved, seemingly against her will, closer to the bars that kept them a good distance away from each other, a noticeable shiver ran down her spine once again. The small hairs on her arms prickled and stuck into the fabric of her jacket as she stood alone in front of him.

She replied in a soft tone as she tried to hide her reaction, "Maybe next time I won't miss."

The Joker laughed uproariously at her answer. Bagheera stood there as the laugh that had invaded her dreams so many times in the last two years surrounded her almost like a warm blanket in the cold corridor of the violent offenders ward. Groans of annoyance erupted from several of the other patients from further down the hall.

"Why didn't you tell them that I was crazy," the Joker asked as the laughter died down, "Ya know, it's because of you that I am here and not on death row facing down a needle."

She shrugged her shoulders and answered casually as if it were the most sensible answer, "Because you didn't give them the recording of," she paused for less than a second, "_us_ in the car drive to the Prewitt building…and because you didn't let me fall," Bagheera gave him a half smile and added, "Consider it a thank you. You saved my life; I saved you from the needle."

"You did all of that jumping through hoops just for me," the Joker asked like a star struck child as he looked up at her with an equally childishly grateful tone.

"Why me," she asked, "You wanted me here. Why?"

The Joker licked at his lip and fumbled with the white sleeves of his jumper, "I just wanted to see how you were holding up after our, ugh," he looked around as if he were about to spill a juicy piece of gossip, "little nights together. Ya look great, very beautiful…I mean it! Are you happy, Baggy?"

The detective smiled and nodded at him though her voice took on an emotionless tone, "I am very happy," she carefully allowed her eyes to grace his scarred features, "You don't look to peachy."

"Ah," the Joker said proudly as he pointed at her, "I knew my little panther cared about me!"

"Not really," Bagheera answered quickly, "Did a guard do that to you? An orderly?"

"See, that's why, uh, I need ya here," the Joker announced as he looked around his cell as if he were paranoid that someone was listening in, Bagheera rolled her eyes at his childish tactic, "I can't do anything about the…ugh," he leaned forward and placed his hands upon the glass, he licked his lips as he added in a dark tone, "_sick_ things they try to do to me in here. See the guardsss, they like to uh get their jollies by beating a poor, innocent, defenseless clown."

Bagheera rolled her eyes at his confession, "I hardly doubt you are the poor and defenseless clown, and you are a no where near the field of innocent."

"Look Bags," the Joker started, but she quickly interrupted him.

"I'm not your caretaker Joker," she informed him harshly with a lifted brow as she eyed his day old wounds, "You have a lawyer for that."

A wicked grin formed across his painted features and said in a dark, predatory tone, "Not anymore."

Another shiver rushed through Bagheera's body as she thought of the man that had crawled out of a blonde bottle that had defended the Joker. He had been rather rude to her, but he didn't deserve whatever the Joker had ordered to happen to him.

"What's his name," she asked as she looked away from him momentarily to look down the empty hall in an attempt to ignore the fact that she was suggesting that she would help him.

The Joker chuckled at her question and answered simply with a pop of his tongue, "Phillip Williams."

She nodded and backed away from the bars, she placed her hands upon her hips, "I'll take care of it."

"That's my girl," the Joker announced happily with a clap of his hands.

"I'm not your girl," she said in warning as she pointed at him, "I'm not your Clarice Starling. I'm not yours, Joker."

_'But you're okay with being his little panther?'_

The Joker smiled as he watched Bagheera walk away from him with straightened shoulders. The confidence that she had possessed when he first laid on her was back and it caused a proud smile to come over his painted features.

"See ya later Baggy," the Joker called out to her.

Bagheera pushed her way out of the violent victims ward and smiled as a bright eyed woman with bottle blonde hair hurried towards her. The woman's bright white teeth sparkled in the light of the hospital as she gave Bagheera a soft smile.

"You must be Dr. Quinzel," Bagheera stated respectfully as the woman in the white lab coat came up to her.

"The one and only," the young psychiatrist announced with a high pitched, excited voice with a very thick Jersey accent, "You're Detective Lewis right?"

"Yes," the detective answered.

"You're really somethin' ya know," the thick Jersey accented doctor announced in excitement as she took in Bagheera's red attire, "He likes talkin' about you. There's a sparkle there. What makes you so special, huh?"

Bagheera smiled at the young woman and shrugged her shoulders and replied in a matter of fact tone, "I don't know. I don't even want to try to get inside of his mind."

"Ya know," Harleen said with a smile, "Red really isn't your color. You should try green, Detective."

...

Ashley Davies, now a rookie uniformed officer for Gotham PD, made her way out of the police car that her older partner drove. They had been called out by a female jogger in the late hours of the night in Gotham City Park.

"You ever see a dead body," her partner asked as they walked together with their flashlights on through the darkness of the jogging trails.

Ashley was slightly taken back by the strange question, but answered anyways, "GU has a body farm. I'd go down there for my forensic labs."

She held her breath as the metallic smell of blood entered her senses. Ashley's eyes widened as the naked body of a mangled woman was laid out in a presentation to any passing jogger.

"Oh my God," Ashley whispered as she immediately recognized the signature and the telling sign that the crime was committed by a copycat. The woman was cut through the middle with her legs spread eagle open. Her mouth was cut open in a perfect Glasgow grin. A wave of sickness entered Ashley's body as she took in the red paint that had been painted over the broken flesh on the victim's mouth while black paint covered the lids of the woman.

Ashley quickly grabbed her cell phone and dialed the number that her role model had given her when she graduated from police academy.

"Detective Lewis," Ashley announced over the telephone once she heard the tired voice of the detective answer her cell, "This is Ashley Davies."

"What's wrong," she heard Bagheera ask on the other end.

"I'm sorry to be calling so late, but-"

"No, it's fine," the sleepy voice of Bagheera said.

"We have a copycat killer," Ashley informed her, "The vic has been mutilated in the same style as Elizabeth Short, but the perp painted her face to look like the Joker."

"Davies," her partner called for her.

"Hold on," Ashley told Bagheera, "I think they found something, I'll call you back."

Ashley hung up her cell phone and hurried towards her partner.

"What's that," Ashley asked as she looked to the yellow spiral that he held in his hands. Monstrous doodles littered the yellow cover along with dark, demonic song lyrics.

"It's the killer's manifesto," he answered as he handed her the work.

Ashley flipped through it until a name stuck out to her. The mad man that had committed the atrocious copycat killing of the Black Dahlia had made a promise to the Gotham PD that he was going to eventually finish what the Joker started. The man was going to finish the Joker's job by finishing off the detective that had placed him behind bars.

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**I hope you liked this chapter. I think I spent a little too long with Bagheera and the Joker, but I couldn't help it. Once I had started with their scene I didn't want to end it! **


	3. The Slab

**Chapter 3: The Slab**

**No, you guys don't understand how much your amazing reviews are for me right now. I'm pretty sure I'm fired from my job, so they are a great source of joy to me through this uncertain time (it's a crappy job, I don't even make minimum wage most of the time, but still I need a job). Seriously, you guys are beyond amazing! **

* * *

Bagheera stood in front of the forensic science morgue with her partner beside her. She was out of the dress and back into her boring clothes that she had always worn while on the job. She watched him out of the side of her eye with silent interest as he looked at the informational posters on the cream colored walls as if he were really interested in what they had to say.

"Have you ever worked with a copycat," Mark asked as he turned to his seasoned partner.

She shook her head and replied, "No. There a lot rarer than you think, well," she shrugged her shoulders casually, "I mean as rare as you can get for a city like Gotham."

"Excuse me," an intern announced as she pulled a dead body towards the heart of the morgue.

"What happened to him," Mark asked in morbid curiosity as he looked over the pale, naked body, "He looks like he had too much fun."

"Cancer," the intern explained in a matter of fact tone as she carefully pulled the deceased male into the morgue.

"Well that was interesting," Mark said simply and offered his partner a small smile.

"You always that charming," Bagheera asked as she returned his smile.

"Well I can't be as charming and funny as the Joker," Mark informed her in a light tone, "but I work with what I got and it usually works."

Bagheera offered him a wicked smile as she replied in the sarcastic tone that she had given to the Joker countless times, "I'm sure you know how to sweep up the floor with all that," she rolled her eyes, "charm that has been lost to young girls."

"Speaking of the Joker," Mark asked carefully, "How was the-"

"It was fine," she answered before he could finish his question, "I didn't really have time to interview his psychiatrist. I'm going to ask Gordon to request that she come to the precinct for a formal interview."

"Sounds like a plan," Mark answered, "So are you going into the interview with Barba?"

"Not with Pam," she said casually as the tall forensic doctor came out of the door, "but for one of the lackeys."

"You two can come back now," the woman informed them.

"Thanks Kami," Mark said as he gave Bagheera a quick wink before the woman could see.

"Sorry I'm late," the tired voice of Ashley Davies announced as she entered the morgue, "My superior said-"

"Only detectives can be-"

"No, it's okay," Bagheera interrupted with a kind smile and a quickly calculated lie, "She's interning with us for right now while working with GPD."

"Well alright," Kami Wilson asked as she allowed the three to follow her into the deep folds of the morgue, "but don't let her contaminate anything."

"I'm sure she's not that stupid, Dr. Wilson," Bagheera announced in an almost harsh tone that was fueled by annoyance. Bagheera turned to Ashley and gave her a small nod to reassure her that she was cool under their protection and that she would not be seen as an ignorant, donut eating cop that most of the law enforcement with higher notches on the totem pole thought of the police officers.

"She's in here," Kami informed them as she escorted them into a small room. The girl's mutilated body lay on the cold metal slab. The corpse had been drained of blood and was ready for cremation or burial, whichever the family had decided.

"Do we have an ID on her," Mark asked as he looked at the unnaturally paleness of the mutilated woman.

"Lana Crowder, age 23, she was a college student at Gotham Community College. She was in the system," Kami informed him as she removed the blue sheet medical sheet off the body. Bagheera looked at the body with professional interest as she took in the grotesque wounds that the woman had been given by the monster that had yet to be identified.

"What was she in the system for," Bagheera asked.

A soft groan escaped Ashley and Bagheera turned to her and whispered so no one else could hear their conversation, "If you can't look at this, then you won't be able to make it in Gotham City. So buck up or get out."

Ashley nodded at Bagheera's words that were harsh but held the honest truth. She needed to learn how to look upon a victim without reacting, no matter how horrible the body looked.

"Crowder was in the system for soliciting sex when she was 19," Kami informed them, "she also had a pending theft charge against her for stealing a diamond ring from a pawn shop."

"Was there any sign of sexual assault," Mark asked.

"There were no signs of forced entry and there was no semen or other bodily fluids found on her body," Kami informed them.

"So this was just some sick bastard," Ashley asked as she forced herself to look upon the mutilated body of Lana Crowder.

Bagheera leaned over the body and examined the wounds closely. Her blue eyes took in the smallest of details on the woman. She could see small bruises on her neck, but they weren't in the shape of fingers, so she quickly dismissed them as love bites.

"Were fingerprints," Bagheera stopped as a sudden sickness overcame her, she leaned over against the metal slab and looked down on the dead woman, and she quickly closed her eyes as the sudden dizziness came over her, "Oh God."

"Bag, are you okay," Mark asked as he quickly made his way to her to offer a helping hand.

"No, no," she said as she took another deep breath as the sickly dizzy spell faded just as quickly as it had come upon her, "I'm fine. Maybe it was just from bending over so fast."

"Are you sure you're okay," Kami asked, "You look really pale."

"I'm fine," Bagheera answered as she ran her hand through her hair, "I just haven't had a lot of sleep after all of this."

"Officer Davies," Mark announced, "Can you take Detective Lewis to get a cup of water?"

"Sure," Ashley said as she looked to her mentor with concern in her eyes.

"No I'm fine Mark," Bagheera answered with a harsh tone and pulled away from Ashley, she looked back to the forensic doctor and asked the question that she had originally planned on asking before the spell had come over her, "Were there any finger prints on her body?"

"None," Kami answered, "You're working with a professional. There is nothing here to use as evidence. Even the cuts have been manipulated to the point that I can't even tell you what was used on her. The only thing that I can tell you is that these wounds were post mortem. A stab wound in her lower abdomen was what killed her."

"You think this was a hit," Bagheera asked. She ignored the fact that the dead woman on the slab had been killed by the very same wound that the Joker had given to her. She didn't want to think about the manifesto that the unknown copycat had left for her to find. She wasn't going to be afraid.

'_Why worry about a copycat? He's a coward. He can't even come up with his own murders.'_

"He's copying the Joker," Mark offered, "It could be the Joker working through a man on the outside."

Bagheera shook her head as she quickly, against her better judgment, defended the Joker, "No. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want people to steal his act. You know how those dramatic people are," she shrugged her shoulders, "But you can bet your ass that he knows something."

"So are you going to question him," Ashley asked as she watched Bagheera look at the pair.

"Not yet," she answered, "but I will," Bagheera looked up to the clock that sat alone on the plain walls, "Right now I need you two to find Lana's lover."

"Lover," Mark asked as he looked at his partner, he watched as her eyes moved to the neck of the woman.

"She had hickies," Bagheera informed them, "Find the boyfriend and connect some dots. I have someone that I need to find."

"Don't forget the thing with Barba," Mark called after her as he watched her pull out her cell phone and call Gordon to tell him about her plan.

Bagheera walked out of the morgue and the sickness feeling came to her once again, but she fought it. She looked down at her cell phone and opened the file that contained the manifesto that had been left at the murder scene. The file took a moment to loud up and she quickly scanned through it with her bright blue eyes.

_As you can see my work has only began. I have followed every serial killer that had plagued the United State in the last century and I think that I have taken particularly great notes from these men. The best of which has been the Joker._

Bagheera rolled her eyes at the criminal's opinion. She knew that the Joker was not one of the best killers in the world. He was just one of the wild cards as his name suggested. He was cold and calculating, but he had lacked something that men like Ted Bundy and the BTK Killer possessed. The Joker just simply wasn't that great in her mind.

_Find my Easter eggs in my paintings. The Joker is my idol. I will kill a random person every week until I finish what the Joker started. Keep the Batman out. This battle is between Detective Lewis and the Joker…and since the Joker is indisposed at the time, I shall be the suitable replacement. I won't stop until the tramp that shot this town's greatest celebrity in the heart is lying with a bullet through her eye._

Bagheera took a deep breath. The man believed, like she had led the Gotham citizens to believe, that the Joker would kill her. She knew he had no problem in harming her mentally or causing her physical pain, but she had the grown to understand that he had been honest when he had told her that she was his last pale light and that he would never kill her. It was a horrible realization that she had found in her therapy session, it was something that she had kept to herself.

...

The Joker leaned against the wall of his cell and whistled a small tune to himself. He could barely contain the joy that he felt inside of him. His favorite little psychiatrist had just left him with a pep in her step. He had given her the right, yet completely bullshit, information that he knew that she had wanted to hear. Little Harleen Quinzel wanted to get famous from his story, and a break in his case would give it to her. The amusement of her future success being laughed at sparkled in his dark eyes at the thought of her being laughed at when she was informed that the story of his father had just been a lie.

She was an easy egg to crack. He preferred his eggs to be more of a challenge. Bagheera had thrown his explanation back in his face. She had known that it was all a lie. She had been the first woman that had actually not fallen for his tricks, she hadn't tried to sacrifice herself to save the city, but she had actually went through with shooting him to save the other officers. No his little panther was a hell cat that had earned her right to carry a weapon.

"We found this Boss," the familiar sound of Bob announced as he showed the Joker a rejection letter with Bagheera's name on it, "Looks like another one. It says the same thing, that's she's too much of a risk."

"That's too bad," the Joker said in a sing song voice as he looked over to his loyal henchman, "What do you think about it all?"

Bob looked around and shrugged his shoulders as he pocketed the rumpled and slightly torn letter, "I think she deserves the chance to get out of Gotham."

The Joker chuckled and replied, "So do I, but then," his voice turned to a tone that resembled that of a disappointed child on Christmas morning, "I wouldn't have my little kitten anymore."

"You want I should bring her to the hideout," Bob asked. He knew it was better to ask the Joker what he should do instead of taking it on himself to do something that the Joker may want done. He knew that his crazy boss was not a fan of improvisation, even if the Joker liked to brag about being a man without plans.

A large smile grew upon his painted, scarred features as he pondered the question. Small giggles escaped him as he thought of Bagheera wrapped in rope while squirming against the chair. He slapped his knee and turned to the henchman.

"Well Bob-O," the Joker announced happily, "I've always said let them come to you!"

"And what about the boyfriend," Bob asked as he watched his crazed boss carefully move away from his lean against the wall.

"Leave him," Joker announced with a chuckle, "She'd know it was usss," he licked at his lips, "Let someone else take care of him," a large smile came across his face as he sucked on the scars inside of his lips, "I'm sure the mob," he popped the b in his mouth, "has a couple of bones to pick with the district attorney."

...

Bagheera walked up the white concrete steps of the old court house. The American flag danced in the freezing November wind above the white marble of the historical Gotham site. She pulled her coat close to her body and quickly scanned her surroundings, taking in each person that gave her a passing glance as the manifesto tap danced upon her brain.

She hurried into the court house and the last shiver bolted through her as she entered the warmth of the historic Gotham building. She could hear the sounds of trials going on in different court rooms as she made her way to the interviewing chambers in the very back hallway of the first floor. As she walked through the bright hallway, the sick, dizzy feeling came back over her as if it were a sense of foreboding telling her to turn back around and run until she couldn't move her legs anymore, until she fell to the floor from lack of strength and oxygen.

Bagheera opened the door and smiled as she looked at her longtime boyfriend standing in front of a round table. She gave him a soft smile as she walked to him as he peered over the files. William Barba stood tall and regal in his dark brown suit that almost appeared black and his light pink tie that set the dark colors apart. Her blues eyes caught his as the studious, all business look in his eyes faded to a soft, loving look in his beautiful hazel eyes as he took in her pale features. The soft, loving look was replaced by worry and he placed a protective hold on her shoulders and eyed her closely looking for any sign of stress.

"Hey," he asked softly, "You feeling okay?"

She nodded and took a deep breath as she softly admitted, "I don't know what's going on with me today. I've just been having random sick spells all morning."

"Are you," he asked as he stole a glance down to her stomach, a small light of hope flickered in his hazel orbs.

"No," she said with a shake of her, "I don't think so, at least," she gave him a soft smile as she took in his concern, "I just think it's because I haven't slept, you know with the things with the Joker and this threat against me."

"Ah," Barba said, "Speaking of that, I want you to make serious thoughts about taking a break from all of this."

She shook her head at his suggestion that was made with caring intentions, "You know I can't do that, Will. There are people counting on me, that need me."

"I know you love your job, I love putting bad guys behind bars," Barba answered with a small smile, "But I love you more and all I want is for you to be safe."

"I am," she answered as she placed her hand upon his cheek and caressed his light stubble lightly with her fingertips, she giggled softly and added before leaning in to place a soft kiss upon his lips, "You need to shave," her fingers fell to his neck and she took in the large red whelps that emerged on his throat as if he had been strangled from behind, she giggled as she touched them and asked, "You've been having fun with the belt again?"

He scoffed at her observation and gave her the most boyish of his smiles, "You caught me," he pulled her hands into his and squeezed lightly, "I got him! He almost got off the rape charges by trying to say that she wanted it rough. I asked him how he treated her once the belt was on her neck," he watched as Bagheera took in the whelps that he had received from so many other tactics that resembled this one, "He just gave me a few marks. You should have seen her."

"At least you got the bastard off the street," she answered with the knowledge of who he had been talking about. It had been a major case for Barba and had been hard to prove with such a high profile mobster and a woman that had been a re-known bed jumper to the gangsters that roamed the Gotham streets.

"I did, didn't I," he asked as Bagheera wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers played with the small cow lick that liked to pop up no matter how much gel he used in an attempt to keep it down. He backed into the edge of the table and allowed her to stand between his legs.

"You did, Mr. Barba," Bagheera said with a wickedly seductive tone in her voice as she felt his arms fall to her waist.

He leaned forward slightly and gave her a soft kiss as she lightly smiled into his kiss as she thought of the happy and hopeful glint in his eyes when he had thought she had been carrying his child.

'_I'm proud of you, you found someone that loves you until the stars fall from the sky,' _the voice said in her head. The voice was kind to her once again; it was a voice that she had missed in the last few days since she had been thrust into the Joker's strange, still unknown, schemes.

She pulled away reluctantly from him and gave him a soft smile, "What do you think about starting a family? Let's skip the pet dog."

The question surprised her and she quickly tried to clear up the mess that she thought she had placed herself in.

"I'm sorry," she said in embarrassment, her face was flushed, "I didn't mean to spring it out on you like that."

Barba smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders, "It's okay, Bagheera. I'm glad you asked. I've wanted to talk with you about-"

"Get your god damned hands off of me," a loud voice screamed in anger as the door burst open with uniformed officers pulling in a man in a blue jumpsuit.

Bagheera and Barba watched carefully as the officers shoved the man down at the round meeting table. Entertained smiles graced their faces as they watched the man glare in anger at the officers.

"Barba," a green eyed brunette, that looked to have just graduated from law school, announced her presence to them, "I hope that you are aware that it is highly unethical for you to be prosecuting someone that your girlfriend put behind bars, but," the woman looked from Bagheera to Barba with slight contempt, "since there was no one else that was available, I'll let this one slide."

"Thank you Sally," Barba answered with a sarcastic tone and a large smile, "You look as ready as can be for the defense attorney of a cowardly man that planned to blow the prosecuting attorney to bits."

"He would have gotten away with it to," Sally Hemmingsworth stated with a quick tone, "if it wasn't for your little _panther_ there. They didn't even really need a man on the inside; all they'd have to do is follow the scent of cheap whiskey."

Bagheera's brows furrowed at the term that the woman had decided to use for her. Her mind rushed to the Joker and she quickly wondered if the young woman had been gotten to by the Joker or his henchmen.

"That's pretty close," Barba replied with a smug smile, "but it was always top shelf. Nice to see that you've grown up in the world though. Mommy finally let you stay up late to watch Scooby-Doo re-runs?"

Bagheera felt the dizzy feeling come back over to her and she pushed herself away from Barba. She sat down at the table and looked over to the man that had been caught in the raid on Poison Ivy.

"We goin' to talk about my bail or we just going to hit on each other," the ginger haired man asked. Bagheera eyed him and wondered if he had some familial connection to Pamela. They had never checked him to see if there were. They could be cousins. No one ever suspected that she and the Scarecrow were cousins, so it could be the same case for these two.

"Yes," Barba announced with a smile as he signaled for Sally to walk ahead of him to sit beside her angry client.

The little interview went swimmingly for the first ten minutes as the man told his side of the story about how Pamela recruited him after she had murdered his best friend that had tried to assault her in the park. Bagheera sat in silence until the man glared at her with anger in his eyes.

"She offered us boatloads of money to take you out," he informed Barba, "I could have had the money to get out of here and start a new life."

"You really think a Gotham hillbilly heroin pusher can make a new life somewhere else," Bagheera asked in slight anger at the man's words.

"Don't answer that," Sally warned as she glared at the detective.

"Fuck yea," the man said in anger as he glared into Bagheera's eyes, "If it wasn't for the Joker's gun totin' piece of fucking pussy," he winked at Barba at the insinuation that Bagheera had been unfaithful, "I wouldn't be in this fuckin' mess. Poison would have what she wanted. In fact, she told us to make sure we didn't kill you, must be orders from the Joker or something, ya know," he smiled as his words echoed around the small room, "You know, my brother always wondered if you let him fuck you that first night and the stab was just some sick fantasy you whores like. You that good of a lay? You don't look like it with a smug bastard like this piece of shit right here," he shrugged as he watched the detective look at him with a blank, emotionless expression upon her face as his words moved over her, "and when you are killed by that fucking psycho, no-"

"Counselor," Barba interrupted in a harsh, yet protective tone as anger rushed through his veins at the vulgar words that he had been forced to listen to about his bride to be, "you should advice your client to shut his mouth."

Bagheera turned to Barba with a look of surprise on her face. She had never seen him lose his cool for such a simple thing that she had received from many, many criminals. The treatment that she had been given had been given to her by criminals since before she had made her way to Gotham City. A sense of pride came over her as the realization came over her that he had done it to protect her from the man's harsh words.

"Shut up," Sally hissed to her client. She turned to Barba and said calmly, "He gets five years off his sentence with his testimony to put Pamela Isley behind bars."

"What's his name," Bagheera asked.

The man looked at her in confusion, "What?"

"What's the psycho's name," she asked, "the one that wants to kill me? What's his name?"

"I don't know nothin'," he spat.

"No deal," Barba informed the counselor.

"You can't do-"

"I can," Barba informed her quickly, "he's withholding evidence that can stop a man from killing innocent civilians. If he would have kept his mouth shut, he would have gotten the deal. I have every right to refuse or request anything from him now."

"Man," he grimaced and pouted as if he were an angered teenage boy that couldn't use his father's vehicle to go to some concert with his friends, "that shit ain't right."

"The name, Meat Head," Bagheera demanded in growing impatience.

"Look," he admitted, "I don't know who he is," he shook his head in defeat, "I just wanted to rattle your chains a bit. In fact, it was that TV cat that asked me to bring up the Joker with you. He paid me two hundred bucks to do it."

"Who," Barba asked with furrowed brows.

"Jack Ryder," Bagheera answered as she pulled herself away from the table and exited the small meeting room. She stood in the hallway and pulled the phone from her pocket and dialed Mark's number.

"Hamill," Mark answered on the other end of the line.

"I need you to check out Jack Ryder," Bagheera informed him, "He is connected somehow."

"Bag," Mark replied, "He was Lana's lover."

"What," Bagheera asked as she connected the dots in her head, "He's involved with all of this. Where are you?"

"I'm coming to pick you up," he informed her, "There was another body found."

"Already?"

"A man was thrown into a vat of chemicals at ABC Chemicals," he informed her.

"I'll call Ashley and her partner," she informed her partner, "They can pick Ryder up and set him up for us in an interrogation room. He's involved somehow, I know it."

* * *

**So I realize as of right now Ashley Davies is rather one dimensional at the moment, but I'm planning on making her a major character as this series progresses. She'll be a very important character hopefully by the end of this story.**

**What do you think about Jack Ryder? Is he involved? Is he a red herring? (ahh evil writer is evil!)**

**Are the happy couple ready to start a family? Is a baby really what they need at the moment?**

**Reviews are seriously the best! :)**


	4. Under Pressure

**Chapter 4: Under Pressure**

**I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter. I have stared at it forever and just don't know what else to add to make it better. It's more or less throwing some more questions into the mix as to who is doing the copycat killings.**

* * *

The black gates of ABC Chemical, a closed down chemical industry site, were screeching on their hinges as the officers drove through them. The "DANGER: KEEP OUT" was holding on by a single clasp on the mesh like fence. Mud holes in the forgotten pavement were filled ruddy water that contained numerous parasites and mosquito larvae. The darkness that surrounded the site gave the building an appearance of a scary, decrepit grandparent that filled a child's nightmares. Red and blue lights flickered high in the dark sky. Three police vehicles and an ambulance were parked in the old parking lot. A uniformed officer was performing the menial task of posting a 'do not cross' sign as the media started to slowly trickle in with their bright lights and cameras.

Bagheera and Mark pulled themselves out of the town car and hurried towards the scene of the crime before the media vultures hassled them for questions on who their possible suspect, which there wasn't any at the moment, was. Bagheera was happy in the knowledge that Jack Ryder would not be on scene tonight and instead be cozying up with a cup of shitty coffee while being hassled by the young officer and her partner.

Commissioner Gordon made his way towards them as they entered the entrance of the chemical plant. His face was long as they met up.

"What's up Commish," Mark asked, keeping his eyes on his boss as Bagheera's eyes moved towards the scene of the crime.

She could see a body dangling from the catwalk with a chain wrapped around the midsection. From her position in the building, she could see the flesh had been burned from the acid. Her heart sank for the poor creature that had been put through a burning hell.

"The body was burned," she asked as she pulled her sight away from the seared flesh of the victim and gave her attention to Gordon.

"It wasn't from any known ABC chemical," Gordon informed the two detectives, "one of their old cronies came here as soon as word broke through that a murder happened here."

"Let me guess," Mark said with a roll of his eyes, "they wanted to save their asses from another lawsuit because of their previous losses."

"No," the husky voice of the Batman announced as he stood beside him.

"Jesus," Mark stated in slight shock as he moved away from the masked vigilante that had appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. Bagheera stifled the chuckle that begged to escape from inside of her, but she realized that there was a dead body swinging in the air and thought it was in distaste to the dead. The memory of how the Batman had first approached her in the middle of the night, she could see Mark's fingers pressing lightly on his gun that sat inside of his holster.

"He does that," Gordon informed his detective.

"What's up Bats," Bagheera asked casually as she looked up to the masked billionaire playboy that she forced herself to dissociate the two. She really couldn't stand the Batman and how he butted in at the most inopportune times, but he usually made great jumps in deductions.

"ABC Chemical was a rumor mill during the Joker's first appearances," he informed them, "Some people said that he had been pushed into a vat of chemicals by me."

Bagheera shook her head as she recalled the almost unknown rumor that had no evidence at all to support it, "A great story. The hero creates the villain," she ran her hand through her hair as the stress bubbled inside of her, the murders had started so quickly that she hadn't had the time to interview anyone that could give them insight, "almost biblical Batman."

The Batman huffed at her sarcastic reply.

"That rumor wasn't widespread," Gordon said, "So-"

"It's someone on the inside," Bagheera interrupted as the realization hit her lick a bucket of ice water that

"You think a cop did this," Mark asked quickly as if he were personally offended by the accusation against a fellow law enforcement officer.

"It's not out of the realm of possibility," Bagheera informed him in a harsh tone, "Especially in Gotham."

"But why-"

"It could also be the Joker," Batman offered.

Bagheera tore her attention away from her partner and back to the Batman. Confusion glittered in her eyes.

"The Joker has lots of people working for him," she said with a shake of her hand, "But I very seriously doubt that he would be having someone half ass copying his murders."

"He's right," Gordon offered, "Would you put it passed him?"

"The Joker is smart," Batman stated, "If he could cause chaos and put the city at ease-"

"All of these crimes are related to him," Mark added, "These crimes are all intimate details that only a few people would know about."

Bagheera shook her head as speechlessness overcame her. She wasn't sure if she should put that bit passed him or believe that he would do such a thing just to keep her busy. He was a narcissist, why would he want someone else taking credit for what he had _accomplished_?

"So what, we have you, the deceased DA, Gordon, Batty, and the Joker that knows about the Joker's in depth details about his crimes," Mark informed them as he turned to look to the Batman to see that he had disappeared just as silently as he had appeared, "Where'd he go?"

"He does that too," Gordon explained with a hint of a smile on his lips to the detective that had never had the opportunity before to meet the Batman in a small pow wow.

"And Harleen Quinzel, she knows intimate details about the Joker," Bagheera informed them while her brain whispered that William and Bob had known as well, but she quickly dismissed the thought of her future husband being involved, but clung to the idea that Bob could have something to do with it all. She shook her head and looked to her superior, "I don't think Jack Ryder is involved. There's no way that he knows those details."

"You still want to question him," Mark asked as he looked over to his more experienced partner. He watched as she glided her long fingers through her hair as she thought the question over.

"Ask him where he's gotten his information from," she informed her partner, "Tell him if he co-operates that I will give him a one on one interview. He will be the first to have the exclusive story-"

"I don't think-"

"I'm sorry Commissioner," Bagheera offered in an almost bitter tone, "but in this case, there's nothing else we can get. There hasn't been any evidence of-"

"The backlash on this could be bad, Bagheera," Gordon informed her in an almost fatherly tone.

"Has the media ever been kind to me before," she asked, but gave him a soft smile and placed her hand lightly upon his shoulder as she added, "but I really do appreciate the sentiment, Gordon, but," her eyes trailed away from her superior and towards the body that was being pulled from its dangling position to see the forensic coroner, "_We_ have to catch this creep. If it's the Joker, then _I_ have to find a way to disconnect him from the outside world," she looked back to Gordon, "It's only a short amount of time until he decides to make his move."

"He's already killed two," Mark answered, "Didn't the Joker kill-"

"But this creep isn't following a set pattern," Bagheera informed her partner, "He's killed two. He's doing it fast. The Joker didn't do things fast. He made me wait for his next plans. This time it's different. It's going to happen like wham, bam thank you mam."

...

Bagheera walked into the interrogation room where Harleen Quinzel had been brought in to wait for her. The clock ticked over and over again in the grey brick room at half past eight at night. She had just received word from Gordon that Jack Ryder had no information that he could give them. He had told them that the information that he had been given had come from the Internet and from old YouTube videos from people that had recorded the events in Gotham during the Joker's reign of terror.

She gave the psychiatrist a small smile as she walked in. Bagheera watched as the doctor quickly glanced at her side piece that sat in its home in the holster upon her waist. The detective smiled at the fact that no one ever realized that she still hid a second weapon under her shirt.

"You went with the green," Harley announced in her high pitched Jersey accent as she looked over Bagheera's emerald green button up blouse, "it goes with that hair!"

"Well thank you," Bagheera answered with a bright smile, "You were originally a hair stylist weren't you Dr. Quinzel, is that right?"

"Yes mam," she answered politely, "That's how I paid my way through school. Daddy helped pay for some, but ya know how us wild girls can be. He cut me off after, well," she waved her hand with a smile, "you probably know the rest."

"If you don't want to talk about it," Bagheera informed her as she took a seat across from the good doctor, "we don't have to."

"So what do you want to talk about, Detective Lewis?"

"The Joker," she informed Harleen, "I want to know what he talks to you about. Nothing too revealing, I get doctor-patient confidentiality. I'm sure everything that he's told you, he's told me."

"That's not true," Harleen answered quickly with slight annoyance in her voice. Her voice lowered in pitch as she looked up at Bagheera. She fiddled with her nails in nervousness and quickly cast her eyes away from the detective's bright blue eyes that reminded of her of photographs of the psychiatrist that had once worked at the hospital before she had found a place there.

Bagheera lifted brow at the woman's sudden strange behavior, "What do you mean, Dr. Quinzel?"

"He tells me things," Harleen answered, "He likes to talk about you."

"What does he say about me," Bagheera asked, she felt surprise at herself for asking that question. Harleen had told her that information before, but she had ignored it.

"Well," Harleen answered as she pulled her focus back to Bagheera, "when I first interviewed me he told me that he had met someone," she pointed at Bagheera, "he was talking about you, Detective Lewis. He wouldn't say your name though. He just said things had happened pretty badly between the two of you."

"Yeah," Bagheera said with a growing smile of pride, "I shot him."

"He said you came to visit him," Harleen added quickly.

Bagheera took her turn to look down at her fingers and fiddle with her growing nails.

"Was it guilt," Harleen asked in an attempt to psychoanalyze the detective.

"I visited the last one too," Bagheera lied in an almost expert like fashion, "It's part of the job unfortunately. It didn't mean anything."

"Ahh," Harleen answered with a simple nod of her head.

"So how long have you been trying to work with him," Bagheera asked, "Crawford told me he's refused to talk with any other doctors at Arkham."

"Well I started working there about three months ago," Harleen answered, "He only started speaking with me in the last month or so."

"Harleen," Bagheera said, "May I call you Harleen?"

"It's fine," Harleen answered, "Mistah J calls me Harley?"

"Mister J," Bagheera asked in slight confusion, "You mean the Joker?"

"Yeah," Harleen said as her cheeks reddened in slight embarrassment. He gave me a nickname, I gave him one."

"That's not very professional Harleen," Bagheera informed her in a tone that sounded like a motherly warning, "In fact, that's worrisome," she shook her head as she reached out to the naïve woman, "The Joker is dangerous and very, very manipulative."

"Oh no," Harleen said with a nervous chuckle, "it's not like that. I know what he is," her tone took on a defensive tone, "He's told me his story."

"Which story did he tell you Harleen?"

She shrugged her shoulders and answered, "It's personal. I can't tell you that."

"Well I can tell you what he told me," Bagheera informed her while she stood up and walked to stand behind the naïve doctor, "He told me that while his lips were being cut his daughter was taken," she shrugged her shoulders, "He told Gordon that his father did it in a drunken rage. He told his recently deceased lawyer that he only does the things that he does because this one time his dad took him to the carnival and the clowns were the only thing that made his father laugh. He always wanted to make his father laugh so he put on a daddy's best Sunday pants and ripped them. His father almost beat him to death. Which one of those did he happen to give you?"

"He said it was a circus," Harleen answered in slight anger as she turned to look at Bagheera.

"He has a bunch of them," Bagheera said with a shrug as she leaned against the wall, "He'll tell you anything to get your sympathy."

"I don't sympathize for him," Harleen reassured her and rolled her eyes, "I'm just trying to help him work through his problems. I want to fix him."

"That's the same tune that wives of convicted felons and death row inmates say," Bagheera informed her, "You're a very smart girl, Harleen. I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."

"Nothing will," Harleen reassured her, "I'm not that easily manipulated, Detective Lewis."

Bagheera was pulled back to the time when she had said the exact same thing about herself. The Joker had manipulated her slightly, not enough to actually be a concern, but he had indeed changed her way of looking at things and how she had reacted to things.

"Is this stint almost over with?"

"Just one more question," Bagheera answered as she pushed herself away from the wall and moved towards the door, "Has the Joker or you talked to anyone outside of the walls at Arkham?"

"I haven't," Harleen answered with an honest sparkle in her eyes and crossed her heart with her manicured nails, "Cross my heart and hope to die. But there was this one visitor."

"Do you remember his name?"

"I think it was Robert," Harleen asked as she tried to think back, "Robby, Bobby? Something like that."

Bagheera smiled. The young woman had given her the answer to part of the riddle that was going on in Gotham.

"You're free to go, Harleen," Bagheera said as she pulled the door open.

Harleen smiled as she pushed herself away from the table. She walked by Bagheera and stopped just as she saw the detective's hand land protectively on her shoulder.

"Take this," Bagheera demanded softly as she handed the doctor her card, "My cell number is on the back. You call me if you are in trouble, you got that Harleen?"

Bagheera watched as the woman allowed her fingertips to caress the cotton fiber paper of the card.

"I don't care what the trouble is. I know you are a strong woman, but just in case," Bagheera informed her in a motherly fashion, "you call me if you need anything. I'm not joking now."

"I gotcha," Harleen answered as she hurriedly placed the card inside of her purse and quickly exited the room, "I have to go, Detective. I have an early morning."

"Be safe, Harleen."

...

The Joker smiled as he pulled the well hidden cell phone, that he had pickpocket earlier in the day from his abusive guard, from the small pouch that he had ripped into the seams of the lumpy mattress. No one had ever checked his room, considering that he was rarely ever taken out. The only time he had been taken out of his little room was for a thirty minute exercise that had usually been stopped at ten minutes by the guards in an attempt to irritate him.

He dialed the number that he had memorized from the first day that he had received the information. He had known making contact with the detective that had been brought in to bring him down would have indeed brought him down, but he had taken that chance and was now paying for those choices.

The phone rang twice before he heard the sleepy sigh. He lay back on his bed and smiled as he listened to the woman on the other end of the line force herself out of a deep sleep. He waited patiently for her to answer the silence.

Bagheera took a deep breath as a surge of hatred rippled through her at whoever had decided to wake her up at three in the morning after her long day. She turned slightly to see Barba moving ever so slightly, but not waking up, from the loud interruption. Light snores escaped him as she pulled herself from the bed before finally answering the silence on the other end of the line.

"Hello," she asked in a soft, sleepy voice.

"Hello Baggy," the Joker purred with a large smile on his face as he lay on his back on the lumpy bed.

A rush of freezing fear moved over her.

"Where are you," she asked as she looked around the small room. Barba's gun lay forgotten on his bedside table along with an empty glass of whiskey that he had sucked on while she was still at work. When she had arrived home, he was already asleep with case files spread upon his chest that reminded of her of how she had once been when she had first been assigned the Joker's case.

"Right where you left me," the Joker asked as he sucked upon his lip, "Were you hoping I was somewhere else, Baggy?"

Bagheera forced herself out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Her heart beat inside of her chest as she fully awoke and realized who she was speaking with on the phone.

"Are you pulling the strings on all of this," she asked as she quickly ran down the stairs.

"You'll have to be more specific," he said in a sing song voice.

"This copycat," she answered, "He's good," she allowed a soft smile to cross her face, "He may be better than you actually. How do you feel about that?"

"You're gonna catch him Baggy," the Joker informed her, "the answer is right there," he licked his lips as he examined his broken nails, "as plain as that pretty lil nose on your face."

"What do you mean Joker?"

"Call me Mister J," the Joker said with a strange softness in his voice.

"I'd prefer not to," she answered, now fully back into their way of talking with each other, quick and full of little shots against each other, "This person wants to kill me. He believes that was your original plan," she paused as she leaned against the wall in the living room, her eyes moved to the couch where she had first touched Barba, "Was it?"

The Joker's loud laughter slammed into her ear and she quickly pulled the phone away from her ear.

"You know I don't want to kill you," the Joker said loudly through his giggles, "I need you."

"Why?"

"Well my little guard problem still hasn't been taken care of," he answered in a matter of fact tone.

"I remember," she answered, "but I need to know who I am going up against before I help you."

"So a sort of I scratch your back, you scratch mine then huh, Baggy?"

Bagheera swallowed her pride as she realized what she was doing. She needed his help to protect her own life. She felt the pressure of the stressful situation that she had been put under pressing down on her shoulders. She looked over to the liquor cabinet filled with Barba's many bottles of expensive bourbon and considered pouring her a glass, but quickly decided against it knowing that she didn't cope with job related stress in the same way that her soon to be husband did with his job related stresses.

"Exactly," she answered without another moment of hesitation, "I don't want to die at the hands of some shithead copycat."

"Who do you trust, Baggy," he asked quickly with a soft chuckle at her words.

The sudden question took her by surprise; she was speechless momentarily as she decided who she could trust.

"My fiancé," she answered.

"Are you sure that you can trust him, Baggy?"

"You aren't going to twist my mind Joker. I love William. You won't turn me against him," she answered in a warning as she glared at the door. Her free hand fiddled with the buttons on Barba's old shirt that she had kidnapped from him long ago.

"Who else can you trust," he asked simply, there was no hint of menace or glee in his voice as he asked the simple question.

"Gordon," she answered, "I can trust Gordon," she paused as she looked around the house, her eyes guided up the stairs and she lowered her voice to a whisper as she asked, "Can I really trust you?"

"Now, Baggy, that's not the right question," the Joker chided as if he were a caring adult, "you know the answer to that. I'll tell you that you can trust me, and you won't believe that I am untrustworthy. Ask me the right questions, _Bagheera_."

His voice was almost purr like as he said her full first name. A shiver rushed down at her spine and she mentally slapped herself at the effect that it had on her.

"I don't know how you want me to ask you," she admitted in defeat. She closed her eyes as her fingers slid through her hair.

There wasn't an answer on the other end of the line. She could hear his soft breathing and she felt a strange comfort come over her, the same comfort that she felt from a long day at work when she lay next to her sleeping district attorney.

"I _do_ trust you Joker," she admitted as she looked back up the stairs, "Tell me what's going to happen. How is he doing this? What's his plan?"

"How much do you love the district attorney?"

"Joker," she stated in slight anger as he tried to change the subject, "Lives are on the line. My life is in jeopardy. We don't have time."

"You'll have to choose," he informed her in a dark tone.

"What," she asked, her heart dropped into her stomach at the strange information that he was giving her.

"You'll have to choose between one life or the other," he answered cryptically. It had been the same words he had given the Batman when Dent and his girlfriend had been taken. This time he meant it in a much darker way that would eventually place her in a difficult situation.

Bagheera felt as if cold water had been dumped on her once again. That old fear and doubt rushed through her veins as his cryptic words surged through the grey material in her brain.

"What do you-"

"It's not a man a runnin' the show, Baggy," he informed her, "When it comes to killing, I've always been a uh equal opportunist. A woman is behind all of this."

"It's a man that's killing those people," she said in a dark tone, "He wants to recreate what you-"

"Baggy, don't be so uh glib," he interrupted with a warning tone, "don't doubt a woman."

"What's her name? How do you know this," she asked quickly, "Who is the next target?"

There was no answer from his end. Bagheera felt her heart beat as adrenaline slowly started to replace the cold fear that had surged through her body.

"Joker," she whispered, with a slight begging lilt to it, "Tell me who she is."

She felt her legs go weak as the dizzy spell washed over her again. She slid to the floor and waited for his reply, but there was none.

"Joker," she whispered once again.

"To-da-loo Baggy," he said and the phone conversation was over.

Bagheera shook her head as she allowed the cell phone to fall from her ear. The person pulling the strings was a woman. She had to find the killer and the killer would lead her to the puppet master.

...

In the darkness of the small apartment office, careful fingers cut a picture of Bagheera and the Joker out of an old newspaper. A small lamp cast the only light within the small office. A brown pushpin board was nailed into the old wall where in the corners, cobwebs and dust collected. The radio played old eighties hits in the background. The volume was low enough so his neighbors would not be disturbed.

"Baggy and Joker sitting in a tree," the unseen man sang to himself as he pinned the pictures together.

Beside their pictures, photographs of Ashley Davies, the Batman symbol, Commissioner Gordon, and Detective Hamill were also pinned upon the board. Random articles that followed the magnicide plots of Clown Prince of Crime along with various works of fiction of sexualized encounters between the Joker and his detective littered the wall.

Cigarette smoke filled the small office as the man looked at his work. He had a decent salary from his regular job, and he was going to make enough money to retire off of once his work with Bagheera was complete.

He was well on his way to getting out of Gotham City alive while taking revenge on the woman that had placed the city's most beloved monster in prison. Soon he would have her in his grasp. He just had one more person to take care of.

He was going to kill the district attorney of Gotham City, just as the Joker had done to Harvey Dent.

* * *

**Dun dun dun! **

**There wasn't a Joker/Bagheera scene last chapter so I felt like I had to make it up to you all. I hope I didn't disappoint. **

**So I actually really like the idea that Bagheera wants to help Harley before something bad happens to her? I think she realizes that something is going to happen to Harley and she wants to be that person that tries to help and stop that (like a lot of officers do for young kids that seem to be going down the wrong path...they will try to do as much as they can to keep that kid out of actual jail)**

**What do you think about this chapter? And I decided that I should give you a little insider on who the copycat killer is doing at the moment. **

**Reviews are amazing :)**


	5. Bloodstained Nightmares

**Chapter 5: Bloodstained Nightmares**

**So like I said, we will begin to delve into the Jonathon/Bagheera dynamic in this story and here is the chapter that it starts in. I hope you like it. It was so hard to figure out a way to best begin it, but I finally settled on a way to begin the backstory. **

**And also, there's a cliffhanger and you guys are going to hate me!**

* * *

_ Lightning lit up the sky as Bagheera lay asleep in the king size bed. She was alone in the darkness of the room that she shared with William Barba. She snored ever so lightly as her lids moved as she dreamed of a peaceful, quiet life where her parents had never been murdered by a masked man. The blankets hugged her in a warm embrace as the cool air from the open window danced around her sleeping form._

_Thunder struck in the distance with the strength of a cannon ball hitting the side of her home. Bagheera jerked out of her sleep and looked around the silent, dark room as the sudden fear quickly escaped her as lightning lit up the room. _

"_Will," she asked and reached for his place beside her, but there was no warm body that lay in peaceful sleep beside her. Her brows furrowed in confusion. She looked around the dark room for any sign of his presence in their shared home._

"_William," she called out, but still there was no answer._

"_Shit," Bagheera whispered to herself as she pulled herself from the bed. The long white satin of her gown fell to its full length at her ankles as she stood up. She looked like the poster girl for a woman being seduced by a vampire as she stood alone with the storm raging on outside the single window of the bedroom. The sound off far off classical music filled the dark house. Lightning and thunder struck outside the windows of the house at the same time in an unnatural way. _

"_Will," she called out once again as she made her way down the stairs. She felt a strange sort of uneasiness come over her as her world seemed to take on a sepia like tint. Her world soon felt surreal as her bare feet walked on their own accord towards the dining room where the classical piano tones originated. _

"_Oh my God," she stopped in her place at the door way as she looked to see Jonathon sitting at the set table. French food, white wine, and long white candle sticks were lit upon the dining table. Jonathon Crane sat tied to the chair with his head lulled to the side. Jonathon's mask was placed over his head, but she could see blood seeping through the cheap, old potato sack._

"_Jonathon," Bagheera whispered in fearful concern as she quickly made her way towards her cousin. Her hands shook like brittle leaves as she ripped the mask off of his head._

"_Oh my God," she whispered again as she looked at the bloody and beaten face of her cousin. She took in the bruises that someone had given him, his lips were busted, blood dripped in a simple stream from his nose and lips, and his left eye was bloody as the beginning of hyphema began to set in. Her hand moved to touch his bloodstained hair in an almost motherly fashion as she knelt down beside him._

"_What happened," she whispered as she took in his beaten face._

_He didn't answer._

"_Isn't it obvious Baggy," Bagheera heard the familiar voice of the Joker enter her ear. She turned quickly to see the Joker standing at the head of the table with an empty wine glass in his gloved hand. He stood there in full make up and his purple suit. His dark eyes seemed to peer into her soul. Bagheera shook her head as she glared at him. The only noise that moved between the small trio was the wheezy sounds that escaped from Jonathon's chest as he tried to breath._

"_No," she answered as she stood from her kneeling position beside her cousin, she looked at the clown that stood in her lover's place at the head of the table, "What's so obvious? Where is my husband?"_

_The word that she had used for William Barba had slipped from her mouth as if it were a natural thing. She shook her head at the clown._

"_What have you done," she asked solemnly, "Is he dead?"_

"_Me," the Joker asked as if he were an innocent child and pointed at himself, he licked at his painted lips, "I haven't touched a hair on his head. Who says he's not the bad guy? Huh," he looked into her eyes and nodded his head, "Hmm? He's not here. Your cousin is here and Barbarella is uh," he looked around the small room, "missing in action."_

"_Where is he," Bagheera cried as anger and fear bubbled inside of her as her legs moved forward in a violent rage, "WHERE IS HE?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!"_

_She crossed the distance between them. Her hips banged into the side of the chairs as she rushed towards him in a rage. Her hands, on their own accord, grabbed for a forgotten fork at the side of an empty plate. She placed it against his throat as she glared into his darkened eyes. The black paint reflected the light between them. There was very little space between the two as she threateningly held the eating utensil just above his carotid artery._

"_Now," she whispered so lowly that only the two of them could hear, "where is he?"_

_The Joker smiled at her and allowed his eyes to slowly look down at her hand. The ring upon her finger glittered in the light._

"_He left you," he informed her casually and licked his lips._

"_What?"_

"_Your lil love found out about you and I," he said in a dangerous, low tone as he quickly ripped the fork out of her hand and threw it into the corner away from her reach. His gloved hand fell from her fingers and grasped tightly upon her thin wrist. _

"_No," she said simply as her eyes stayed on his. She felt his hand pulling her closer towards him, closing the space between them. Disgust and the tiniest hint of lust rippled through her as she felt her chest meet with his. The air around her seemed to escape as he glared down at her. _

_The detective and the criminal were only mere inches from a lover's embrace. She kept silent as he pushed her backwards and into the table. Bagheera's thighs bumped into the sides and her hands moved behind her to steady herself against the wooden length of the table. The Joker's hands were upon her shoulders as he carefully and slowly, almost unbearably slow, pushed her backwards upon the table. The dishes on the table seemed to disappear from the table as her back arched against the wood as the Joker shifted his weight to look over her as she lay beneath him upon the wooden table._

"_I'm dreaming," she whispered as a tear fell from her eyes, she looked away from the clown and into the darkness, "It's just a dream."_

_Bagheera felt his knee push her legs apart as his free hand moved down the length of her torso. She sighed deeply as a shiver betrayed the strange, lustful feelings that radiated through her body when he felt his gloved fingers pulling up the satin fabric of her gown. _

"_He doesn't really love ya Bags," the Joker informed her, "Barbie doesn't see," he lifted his hand up and touched her face, his gloved fingers bit into her skin and left small red marks as he looked into her blue eyes, "the little scars that you have on the uh inside. The ones that make you beaut-uh-ful," he smiled at her and licked his lips once again as he took in the soft skin that made up her unmarked face, "I can see it though," his voice took on a dark, almost demonic tone in her mind as he continued, "All you have to do is surrender."_

_She closed her eyes as she felt his weight shift on top of her. Her hands moved on their own accord as they found the lapels of his jacket and slowly researched the folds of the fabric to find the perfect and quickest way to disrobe him. The smell of gun powder rippled through the air that surrounded them. She couldn't take a calming breath as she felt his scarred, painted lips linger just above hers. Her lips quivered as she lay beneath the murderous clown. All the thoughts of his past crimes did not escape her; they stayed in her mind as she felt her heart beating like a tom tom in her chest. The space between her pink lips and his red lips lingered unbearably close. It had been like time had frozen them in that spot._

"_I love him," Bagheera whispered as she opened her eyes and pulled away from the encroaching lips. Her blue eyes widened in fear as she choked on the panic that erupted through her as she looked up to the angry, bright blue eyes of the man that now lay atop her. Her heart seemed to want to bust out of her chest as she took in the angered glaze that took over her cousin's once handsome features. _

"_Fu-" a hard squeeze took over her throat and she felt as if her wind pipe was about to be crushed by the hard grip that was no wrapped around her neck._

_Her hands instinctively jerked towards the man's hands that choked her. Her fingernails bit into his flesh that seemed to radiate the fire of his rage as her legs slightly wrapped around his own in an attempt to pull herself away from her in the same way that she had done many times before in their youth._

_Bagheera forced herself to pull a hand away from his constrictor like grip on her neck. She tried to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Time felt like it was moving at a snail's pace as she reached for him. Thoughts of their abusive moments moved through her mind as she felt her mind becoming foggy. Those abusive moments changed to something altogether different, memories that made them different to other "normal" cousins. It was the only thing that she knew could tame the monster inside the man._

"_Jonathon," she gasped as she looked up at him with tear filled eyes, fear laced her voice, "I'm terrified," she took a deep breath as the grip on her throat subsided for only a moment, "I'm not gonna leave ya, Johnny."_

_Bagheera felt a scream escape her as her cousin allowed the cloud of his fear toxin mist her face. He'd never used it on her before and the fear of the unknown entered her body. She had never been afraid of anything. The surrealism of the room faded away as a cold breath washed over her._

_Her head lulled to the side while the drug began its quick attack on her mind as her cousin's soft, yet indifferent voice whispered through the fog, "You'll cry and you'll scream," she felt his long fingers caress her unscarred face in the same exact location that the Joker had touched her, "and then you'll know that there is nothing to fear but fear itself."_

Bagheera's eyes bolted open as she looked around the darkness of her shared bedroom. Her heart beat as if she had just fought off her cousin like in the old days of their youth. The blanket blocked her view and she quickly threw it off of her face. The cool air rushed over her body as she looked around the darkness of their room. She turned to look at Will's side and sighed in relief as she took in his form. He smiled softly at her as he took in her horrible bedhead and sleep riddled eyes. His beautiful hazel eyes calmed her beating heart and she gave him a thankful smile as she moved towards him to pull in his warmth in the cold morning.

"What were you dreaming about," he asked as he allowed her to fall into his arms. His thumb absently drew circles upon her upper arm as he held her.

"How'd you-"

He chuckled softly at her and replied simply, "I've slept beside you for almost two years remember? I helped you with all of…"

She nodded as she recalled the many nights that she had awoken from a horrible nightmare about the Joker and he had been there to comfort her in the middle of the night. She really was thankful for him. She knew if something were to ever happen to him that she could deal with it, but she didn't want anything to ever happen to him. He was her bedrock in a world where everyone else was sand and she was the one that occasionally needed someone to stabilize her. William Barba was her bedrock.

"It was about Jonathon," she informed him as she held him close and thought back over the horrible nightmare, "He gave me his fear toxin," she shook her head and closed her eyes as she thought of the events that had happened between her and the Joker, "it was the first time the Joker hadn't been in it."

"Well," Barba whispered in reassurance, "That's a good step in the right direction."

"Do you have a case today," Bagheera asked in a successful attempt to change the subject.

"We start on the Isley trial today," he informed his future wife to be as he looked over to the alarm clock on the coffee table that read 7 AM, "but I don't have to leave until noon. We could talk about our future."

"Will," Bagheera whispered as she smiled softly at the intimacy between the two of them, her mind rippled back to where she had been the night before, "I went to the doctor last night after work."

Barba looked over her with a slight confusion and worry in his hazel eyes.

"I was going to tell you," she informed her lover, "but I was so exhausted last night. I had blood work drawn, ya know with all my dizzy spells I've been having here lately."

"And," he asked as his fingers absently played with her hair.

"They said they want to re-take my blood next week," Bagheera said, "They said something irregular showed up in the tests. It could be nothing though."

"You mean like cancer or-"

"No," she answered quickly, "I don't think so. They just want to make sure. Hell," she said with a smile and touched her belly lightly with her fingertips, "it could be I just have a bun in the oven."

...

Bagheera had two places to go before she could go back to the precinct or go back home. The dream that she had that morning was still prevalent in her mind. The fear that the Scarecrow had instilled in her had been too much for her. She had no idea what fear would surface inside of her from the fear toxin. It was the fear of the unknown had put her on edge. She had faced murderers, rapists, psychopaths, and the occasional breast cancer scare, but she never considered herself being afraid of anything in the way that Jonathon Crane wanted her to be afraid. The other part of the dream, the part where she had been dangerously close to crossing a professional line with the Joker, ate at her insides. She felt a sense of disgust and guilt move over her when she thought about having the dream in the bed that she and Barba shared.

The old, rundown apartment building was made from old bricks with gum and mold plastered upon the outside walls. She took a deep breath as she entered the double doors that lead into the hearth of apartment building. A single staircase ran through the middle to the four levels that were present in the building. She had found out where the man lived through the systems at the Gotham Police department. She had snuck away quickly without Mark noticing. She didn't want them to know the two people that she had to visit with.

The man that she was visiting at this location was Phillip Williams, the Arkham Asylum guard that had given the Joker a busted lip and a bruised eye. She smiled as she made her way up to the apartment door that he lived behind.

Bagheera knocked on the door and placed a smile on her face. Her purple silk shirt hung loose on her skin while the hidden gun on her back lightly touched against the white undershirt that she wore under the loose material. Her badge rested upon her belt loop and her hand moved to pull attention to the silver Gotham PD star on her hip. She knocked on the door and waited patiently as she listened to the day time television soap being turned off and the footsteps of the resident coming towards the door.

"Who is it," Phillip asked as he opened the door without checking through the small peep hole. His eyes deadened as he immediately recognized Bagheera's face.

Bagheera eyed the short man that was a little short to be a Storm Trooper. He was in his early twenties and stood with an arrogant stature. His hair was dark and matched the darkness of his newly ironed guard uniform. She knew that she had caught him getting ready for his next shift. The woman at Arkham hadn't led her down the false path in regards to the man's schedule and she was thankful for it.

"Shit," he said under his breath and looked away from her.

"Yes," Bagheera answered, the smile was still on her face as she glared at the abusive guard, "Obviously you know who I am and I have been made well aware of who you are, Mr. Williams. Now it seems," her brows lifted ever so slightly as he allowed his hands to sweep through his thick brown hair, "that we have a mutual," she stopped, "I wouldn't call him a friend, but we have a mutual acquaintance."

"Is that why you came here," the man's voice was arrogant as his chapped lips formed into a toothy grin, "You can't do anything about it, Detective."

"Are you admitting that you beat a patient?"

"He's not a patient," Phillip argued, "He's a psychopath. He's killed people," he leaned forward and looked down upon her, "I don't understand what it is with you gashes and lovin' psychopaths."

The detective glared at him as he reached for her and flipped her hair as he added, "You can't prove anything. The law is on my side. It always has been. No one gives a shit about prisoners."

"Take your hand off of me," she demanded harshly, "Don't make me tell you again."

He didn't listen to her. His fingers absently twirled in the loose strand of hair. Anger bubbled inside of her as he ignored her demand.

Bagheera glared at the man's hand that held a strand of her hair. She jerked his hand from hair and she twisted his wrist behind his back. She swung him backwards and pinned him against the wall.

"You fucking bi-"

Her free hand clutched the back of his neck and slammed his forehead into the wall. She listened to him whimper and satisfaction rushed through her. She had warned him not to touch her, but he hadn't listened. Technicalities were her favorite things to use against shitty little punks that lacked basic manners.

"I think you broke my fuckin' nose," Phillip whined as she held him place.

"Good," Bagheera said simply, "I told you to take your hands off me. You assaulted an officer of the law," she smiled as she leaned into his ear, "Now let's talk about the Joker."

"You crazy bit-"

"You want me to actually break your nose," she hissed in his ear as her hand tightened upon his neck, "Now, I know that you've seen the news. You do realize that when he escapes," she chuckled, "because let's face it there will never be an if, he will escape from that hell hole, he will come after you."

The man nodded at her words.

"Consider this my little word of advice," she whispered into his ear, "Don't fuck with the Joker anymore," she shook her head as her voice dropped into a darker tone that could have been on the same level as disturbing if she had allowed herself to be a villain like Jonathon and the Joker, "because if you do, I won't protect you. You got that Philly?"

"Ye…yeah," he stuttered, "I g-get it."

"Good," she answered in mock kindness, "because if you make me come here again, I won't be as nice to you.I _despise _men that abuse others."

...

It was two in the afternoon. Arkham Asylum inmates were bustling about doing the same mundane, routine tasks that they had been doing since they were either committed or incarcerated. It was no different for the Joker. The Joke sat in an old chair in his maximum security cell doodling small cartoons of Batman, Gotham City, bombs, Bagheera behind bars, and his pretty little blonde doctor who lay upon his bed as if she were completely comfortable around him.

Harleen Quinzel sat with her eyes cast towards the ceiling of the clown's room. She didn't feel any sense of fear as she lay alone in the room with the mass murdering clown. She had found that she had trusted him somehow. He had gotten into her head.

She had broken the first rule that Dr. Crawford had given her. _Don't let the Joker in your head._ She had ignored that bit of advice and had let him get to her. She had once been strong willed, but in the course of almost two months he had wiggled his way into her chest and built a fort upon her heart. She wondered how the young detective had faired against him. Crawford had told her that the Joker had gotten into her head. She didn't believe that anything was going on between the two because if anyone were to fall for the Joker in such a way, they would have never shot him in the chest. An almost fatal wound wasn't how you showed someone that you loved them. Her father had taught her that when they had watched Silence of the Lambs for the first time.

She peeked through her blonde bangs and took in the clown as he sat upon her chair and doodled whatever it was on her tablet. He bit at his tongue as he concentrated on his task. Harleen held in the naughty giggle that wished to escape her as she thought about all the things that he could do with that tongue of his. Extreme personalities were her cup of tea, and the Joker had been just the case that she had begged for. At the beginning of their sessions, she had just wanted to use him to further her career, but then something had happened.

_The Joker got under her head by leaving little gifts._

The mad clown had been the only one that had given her gifts since the untimely suicide of Guy Kopski, her would be husband. She wondered if the detective that the Joker loved to talk about on occasion would end up in the same position as her. Harleen didn't wish that on anyone. The detective had been caring and nice to her. She had plugged the digits into her Blackberry as soon as she entered the car because she was in danger, but not from the clown.

"So," the Joker announced in an almost purr line tone as he pulled himself away from the doodles to look at the blonde on his bed, "what do you think about the mad man known as the Jokerrr?"

"He's just a poor misunderstood man," Harleen admitted as she twiddled with her manicured nails, "He's actually a tortured soul crying out for love and acceptance."

The Joker rolled his eyes at her words. Bagheera had been straight up with him. She didn't sugar coat him and place him in a category, but Bagheera didn't have a crush on him. He hadn't been able to invade her mind in the ways that he had hoped. Though he did get an 'I trust you' from her and that had been the only moment that he had realized that he had actually gotten under her skin. The little Harley Quinn had fell for him almost immediately, though he knew that part of it had been because of her want for fame and celebrity.

"He's a lost injured child trying to make the world laugh," she continued softly, her legs crossed over each other as she took a deep breath and breathed in the smells of the Joker. She turned onto her belly and looked to her patient with a smile and admitted, "As crazy as it seems," she shrugged her shoulders, readying herself to take the plunge that she had only taken once before, "I have developed feelings for my patient known as the Joker. He got into my head when everyone told me not to let him have free reign. Kinda crazy huh?"

He leaned forward and returned her smile. He popped his lips and licked them as he tried to find some words of encouragement and understanding to the young girl that he had successfully manipulated. He knew he would be out of Arkham in no time and he could take his pound of flesh from Bagheera for the scar on his chest.

"No," he said proudly with a small smile, his eyes sparkled, "Not. At. All."

Harleen smiled with bright blue eyes at his words, "Really?"

"A uh bright young woman like you," the Joker said as he looked at her from under his lashes, his dark eyes successfully hid the darkness inside of him from the woman, "with a man that was too** COW-ard-A-LEEE** to finish life and marry you caused you to ugh become career oriented," he shrugged his shoulders as he glared at her, he could see the hairs on her flesh standing at attention as he told her things that he shouldn't know, "No. Harley you are NOT," he popped the last word, "crazy," he chuckled, "Believe me, he straightened his jumpsuit, "because I know the crazy ones when I see 'em."

Harleen's brow rose ever so slightly as she took in his description of herself, "How do you know those things about me?"

"You told me," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"No," she answered as she stood from her place upon his bed, "No. No, I didn't. How do you know those private, personal things?"

The Joker laughed wildly at her question. He could hear the hint of slight fear in her voice that she tried so hard to ignore.

"Kid," the Joker announced as he took in the young features of the very young doctor who had worked really hard to get where she was in Arkham, "I got people in the outside world. People that put Arkham sessions on the Internet," she smiled knowingly at her and winked innocently, "I had to know some lil things about my number one doc!"

...

Bagheera smiled to herself at how quickly she was accomplishing her tasks for the day. Everything seemed to go by quicker for her when she was doing things without her partner or without the young woman that had delegated her as her role model. She knew that she needed another mind to help her through cases, but with the people that were involved in these crimes, she knew that she could get things done a lot faster than the others. She knew how to deal with criminals, and her surviving the Joker had solidified her as a force to be reckoned with through the criminal underworld in Gotham City. She had never had to pull a weapon on a sneaky, low level criminal that she knew would help her solve a case. She had only fought with the higher level criminals, the Poison Ivys and the Falcones of the criminal underworld, and ever they would be a lot more careful than they would have been with just the run of the mill law enforcement officer. She had to be thankful for the Joker for that reason only. He had solidified her as a respectable opponent in the criminal underworld.

She walked to the small home on the outskirts of Gotham. She had passed several old trailer homes that kept bulldogs chained to a tree with a simple blue tarp to cover them from the elements. The small hub wasn't actually part of Gotham City, but it was still part of the county that oversaw the city. Tall trees gazed down upon her as she made her way up to the small house in the middle of nowhere. A simple rope hung down from a high tree branch for a make shift swing that belonged to the children of the owners of the small house. Three cats lazily walked away from her and made their way to her car to investigate it. The world was silent in this small place of hardworking men and women.

The Crane farm was only a forty minute drive from where she was and a chill went through her just as the wind blew through the trees. The bustling wind was the only thing that filled the air and a sudden sense of foreboding came over her. The cliché 'it's quiet, too quiet' feeling came over her and her blue eyes quickly scanned her surroundings in an attempt to find anything that may have been out of place.

She continued forward while shaking the foreboding sense away from her shoulders. She was simply stopping by to see an old acquaintance. Her footsteps upon the old weather rotted wooden steps signaled her arrival and she could hear the yelps of small dogs behind the white door.

She slowly reached her hand out to knock on the door. She knocked three times. There was no answer, but she could hear footsteps trying desperately not to be heard.

"Robert Burton," Bagheera announced as she stood completely alone on the porch while the local cats climbed upon her town car, "It's Detective Bagheera Lew-"

Bagheera didn't have a chance to scream or react as the sound of a gun going off erupted from inside the house. Splinters from the door flew wildly in the air as the bullet passed through the cheap wood of the door. Bagheera felt as everything around her slowed to a snail's pace as the bullet made its way towards head. The only sounds that filled her head were the yapping of the dogs and the sound of her blood rushing throughout her body as her heart pounded inside of her just as the bullet pierced her skin.

* * *

**So what did you think? I thought I'd throw in a nice little fluff piece for the Bagheera/Joker fans without it actual being a love/sex scene. I hope you all like that.**

**Reviews are amazing! And I'm so sorry this took so long to come out. I was trying to figure out the best way to re-introduce Jonathon and Bagheera back into the story and that seemed to take forever!**


	6. Code of Silence

**Chapter 6: Code of Silence**

"Son of a bitch," Bagheera yelled as the bullet zipped through the thin flap of skin on her right ear.

Warm blood flowed from the small wound on Bagheera's right ear. She ignored the dangerous situation that she had found herself in as she rushed towards her car. The detective threw herself from out of harm's way on the passenger side of her town car. She leaned against the warm metal of the car and hissed at the pain throbbing in her ear. Her hand lurched forward to touch the wound. She could feel a deep cut moving across her ear. The adrenaline rushed through her as she heard someone screaming from inside of the home. The yapping of the small dogs filled the air around her as she forced herself to think clearly through the throbbing pain in the side of her head. She knew that she had been lucky that the

"Shit," Bagheera yelled through clinched teeth as she pulled her hand away from her ear to see her own dark blood staining the pale, white skin of her fingers.

"What the fuck happened," she heard the voice of the man that had beaten her exclaim from the porch.

Bagheera rolled her eyes as she heard a woman behind him crying as she tried to explain why she had shot right through their front door.

"She said she was a cop," Bagheera heard the unseen woman explain, "Just like-"

"Who's out there," the gruff voice of Bob called out to her, seemingly ignoring the woman's explanation.

Bagheera rolled her eyes and bit her lip as she ripped off her star from her belt to show to the Joker's henchman. She lifted her hand in the air, showing the Joker's main man her badge. She lifted her bloody hand into the air and bit at her lip as she held in the pain that radiated from her head.

"I'm coming up now," Bagheera said carefully as she slowly steadied herself on her shaking legs to push herself up, "Now, I am not going to pull my piece," she paused and added in an attempt to show her good word, "I'd like to not be shot in my other ear please."

"Well I'll be a son of a bitch," Bob announced as he took in Bagheera slowly pulling herself from behind her hiding place. He watched as the blood from her ear slowly dripped down her pale neck.

Bagheera's eyes took in the large man that had beaten her on the Joker's orders and to the shaking woman beside him. Bob looked comfortable in black sweats and a matching wife beater. The woman, his wife, stood with a gun shaking in her hands. The woman stood in pink floral leggings and a turquoise long sleeve shirt. Bagheera mentally placed the woman with lush, blonde, curly locks in a 1980s high school on a Saturday morning for detention. The woman seemed to have jumped straight out of an MTV music video from some old rock band that had just recently hit it big.

"Hello Bob," Bagheera stated flatly as she held her hands up, "Can I speak to you," her eyes moved over to the nervous blonde, "without being shot in my other ear."

"I'm sorry 'bout that," Bob said as he eyed his wife, "Dawn has been pretty on edge since the whole copycat thing."

"Yeah, well," Bagheera nodded as she pulled herself around the car that had served as her shield, "that's what I've come to talk to you about our mutual," she paused as she looked around the beautiful land that the man owned, "benefactor."

She knew it would be a lie to call him anything but a benefactor. It was true that she hadn't received any money compensation from the Joker, or even superstardom, he hadn't made her famous, but the Joker had given her something. That something was she could walk among criminals while receiving some sense of respect from them. He had let her capture him for that very reason alone, she knew.

"Let's get that ear looked at," Bob informed her as he waved her inside of his house as if she were an old friend, and in some odd way she felt like it fit even if he had beat the shit out of her. Their connection was a man dressed as a clown and they had both survived the madman's unpredictable behavior.

"I'm real sorry 'bout that," Dawn began in a heartfelt apology as Bagheera made her way towards them, "I thought-"

"Dawn," Bob stopped her quickly as he moved deeper into their shared home.

Bagheera didn't reply back to the woman's apology. She allowed Bob to guide her into their kitchen. Her blue eyes looked around the fairly clean home. Two small dogs, a tan Chihuahua and a black and white Papillion, growled at her from the couch, but neither dared to approach her.

"Nice place," Bagheera said as she blinked back the tears that wanted to form in her eyes from the pain.

"Where's the first aid," Bob asked of his wife as he looked in the cabinets in the kitchen.

"It's in the bathroom where you left it last time," Dawn answered with a roll of her tawny eyes as she took a seat at the small island in their kitchen. The overhead lights were bright on the black granite of the island. Bagheera took a seat beside her, but she was careful to make sure her bloody rubies did not drip upon the clean floor.

"Last time he had to use that, he was in a bad car accident," Dawn added with a shrug, "I swear if the Joker didn't pay him good then I'd tell him not to even try," Dawn looked over to the woman and eyed her carefully before adding, "You know, I believe you…about not being _with_ the Joker."

Bagheera looked at her with confusion in her blue eyes.

"I mean," Dawn shrugged, "it's obvious to me. Bobby told me about everything that happened. I think you are a very brave woman. We were actually shocked that you shot him."

"Yeah," Bagheera answered absently, "Me too," her eyes looked over the clean kitchen and added, "So you knew about what Bob did for a living?"

"Oh yeah," Dawn answered with a smile, she shrugged as she added, "I mean at first I wasn't cool with it. He'd come home with someone else's blood on him, but I mean, it's something you get used to when he's puttin' food on our table and clothes on our back, and I mean," she rolled her eyes, "there's not a lot of work for vet techs in the city."

"What about out here," Bagheera asked, feigning interest.

"Nah," Dawn answered simply, "Most folks out here tend to their own animals. If they're dog gets sick they just put a bullet in its head, same with their livestock critters."

"Here," Bob announced as he hurried back into the kitchen. Bagheera turned back to Bob to see coming towards her with a small white metal box along with a bottle of alcohol.

"Bob used to be a medic in the Army," Dawn began, "before being discharged with-"

"Detective Lewis doesn't want to hear about me. She came to talk about the Joker," Bob informed his wife with a smile. She smiled back at him and patted his hand.

"You make sure you tell her why I shot at her," Dawn informed him as she moved away from her husband and the visiting detective. Her nervousness had settled down completely from when they had first encountered each other.

Bagheera looked at the Joker's henchman with slight interest in her bright blue eyes. He had beaten her as if he had practice with beating a woman, but his wife looked happy. She couldn't see any hint of abuse in the relationship.

"I'm not a bad person," Bob informed her in a hushed voice as he applied the alcohol to her ear to remove the blood away from her skin. He smiled lightly as the detective hissed, "Oh, don't whine. You took what the Joker dished out; I think you can take a little disinfectant."

She watched as his large tattooed arms moved with great skill as he took in the fresh wound.

"So you're wife's a real shitty shot," Bagheera said simply in an attempt to relax the tension that was thickening in the kitchen as the two stood alone. The last time she had been alone with him was when she had been under the influence of some pain killer that the Joker had injected her with.

Bob snickered at her keen observation, "Well that's not why I married her. Good thing too because I would have been six feet underground when we first got together."

"And why is that," Bagheera asked as she found herself becoming interested in the henchman's history.

"She was not too happy with what I did," Bob answered as he continued on with Bagheera's wound, "She tried to get me to stop what I was doing, but she never stopped believing in me and she didn't leave my sorry ass."

Bagheera couldn't help the smile that tugged at her pink lips at the man's words about his wife.

"She was my light at the end of a dark tunnel," Bob added, "I was a snowball headed for hell. The mob had planned on taking me out on their next fishing trip. When a man in clown make up came to me with an offer, it was Dawn that told me to take it."

The small hairs on her body stood rigid at the man's words about his wife. She felt all the color in her cheeks fade away as a cold understanding washed over her.

"_Because you are the last pale light in the West," _the Joker's words echoed in her mind from a past that she had longed to forget. She knew that the Joker wasn't a sentimental guy. She knew there was no love in his heart for her, but curiosity bit at her as she asked herself one simple question: _What had she saved the Joker from?_

"You lucked out," Bob answered as he took in the inflamed ear and pulled her from her darkening thoughts, "If she would have gotten any closer, you wouldn't be sittin' here."

"Yeah, I guess so," she answered with a soft smile as she watched his pudgy fingers moving towards the needle and thread, "You've done all of this before?"

"Working for criminals is a tough job," he answered with a calm voice, "Dawn is a vet tech. She taught me how to properly stitch up wounds so they wouldn't scar so bad when we first started dating."

"So she isn't worried," Bagheera asked as she felt the initial pierce of the needle into the cartilage of her ear, "about all of this? The Joker?"

"Yeah she is," he answered, "But here's a little known fact about my girl is that her father was big in the days of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. You know the bebop days of mobsters."

"Why the Joker? You both could have just," Bagheera shrugged her shoulders, "left."

"Who leaves Gotham," Bob asked simply as he continued working on her ear.

"Are you ever afraid that he will, well," she said as she leaned slightly forward in an attempt to ignore the pain that was flooding through her body, "kill you?"

Bob chuckled at her words and shook his head. Bagheera allowed a smile to come over her features as she watched the once ever silent man laughing at her.

"He's had an effect on you," he informed her.

"It would be a lie to say that he hasn't," Bagheera said honestly, she took herself off guard as she added, "I think about him at least thirty seconds of every hour."

"And just for the record, Detective Bagheera Lewis you haven't read me my rights," Bob announced as if she were wearing a wire under her clothing, "so I am assuming this isn't about what I had to do to you two years ago?"

"No, I hold no ill feelings towards you," Bagheera answered honestly as she felt a slight tug at her ear, "Ow."

"Almost done," he answered in a soft, fatherly tone in reassurance.

"I need to understand him," she said as she looked to the man that possibly had the answers that she needed. What she really wanted to ask was how he decided that she was the one to be the light at the end of the tunnel for him.

"Business isn't that busy right now," Bob asked, "I'd figure you'd be really busy with that killer you got running around here. Didn't he make a threat against you?"

"He did," she answered with a shrug, "but I have some help on this case. I don't think this copycat is going to go through with his threat on offing me though. The Joker is a big enemy to have," she turned to look at him with a serious glint in her eyes as he finished the stitches, "is he planning on escaping soon? I need to know if he is. It could cause a bigger shit storm in local politics that will involve-"

"I see the district attorney has rubbed off on you as well," Bob said with a small gruff laugh as he looked at his patient, "I didn't vote for him. My wife did, though. You look good with ol' boy on the tube."

"Have you talked to the Joker," Bagheera asked, ignoring the henchman's words about her boyfriend.

"I haven't talked to him in two years," Bob lied to the detective, "I couldn't tell you what he's planning."

"I know you've been to see him," she informed him quickly, "Now, you can help yourself and your wife…and me," she shook her head as she pointed to herself, "by helping me understand the disaster that is about to hit Gotham."

"Look," Bob started to say, "All I can tell you is that you are facing something big."

"What do you mean, Bob," Bagheera asked as she found herself leaning inwards, her blue eyes sparkled as she eyed him in an attempt to find any part of him that signaled to her that he was a man that couldn't be trusted. She couldn't find any signs.

"You were his hobby, Detective," Bob informed her, successfully changing the subject, "as soon as the rumor went out, you became his number one hobby. All his other _interests _ceased to exist. The streets were rampant with rumors that a woman was being brought in to fish out the Joker," he eyed her, "They never told you?"

"Told me what?"

"You weren't sent to Gotham because of your record," Bob said, carefully choosing his words to the detective, "you were sent to Gotham because you are a woman. They thought a woman would bring him out. They wanted beauty to kill the beast."

"That's not true," Bagheera informed him quickly and looked away from him; anger bubbled inside of her stomach as the words tossed around in her mind. She refused to believe that she had never been taken seriously, "Gordon wouldn't-"

"Gordon didn't know," Bob informed her, "it was the former commissioner and the mayor's idea."

"There's no way that you could possibly know that," Bagheera said in defense.

'_Why are you defending them,' _the logical side of her mind asked in anger.

"The Joker made me find out everything about you. What your favorite alcoholic beverage was, the color of your lingerie, what happened when you were a kid…I had to find out everything," Bob informed her, "Why do you think he let you capture him so easily when the Batman couldn't?"

Bagheera glared at the floor at the words that the Joker's man henchman was telling her.

"It doesn't change anything," Bob informed her as he took in her angered and seemingly betrayed blue eyes, "you still captured him. You still saved the lives of Gotham citizens."

A sob formed inside of Bagheera's throat, but she quickly swallowed it down in hopes of seeming strong in front of the man that had almost beaten her to a pulp. She didn't want to acknowledge the fact that the system that she had dedicated her life to had used her simply because she was a woman. She didn't want to believe that she was a pawn in a sick game. She didn't want to believe that she had been so disposable.

'_The Joker didn't see you that way. In fact, he showed Gotham how important you are,' _the dark side of her mind said.

'_Barba saw you the same way,' _the rational side of her mind argued back in an attempt to keep the Joker from getting further under her skin than he already was.

"Why did you wife shoot me," Bagheera asked in an attempt to change the subject.

The detective watched the man closely as he turned slowly in the direction of his wife's bedroom. He looked down to the ground and shook his head in disappointment.

"I've been in this game for a long time," Bob admitted, "but I've never once had to worry about anyone threatening my family."

"Someone threatened you," Bagheera asked, her eyes were now harsh as she thought of the manifesto that had threatened her life. She shook her head as she thought about how Dawn had tried to tell her from the very beginning. She felt as if she could slap herself. She had been so enrapt by learning about the Joker that she had forgotten to take in the people around her.

"A man came up to my wife," he answered, "she told me he said that he was a cop and that he knew about me. He showed her a badge and everything. He told her that if she didn't tell him about what I did for the Joker then some woman would come to the house and kill us both in a horrible, horrible way."

"And she was sure it was a cop," she asked.

"She came home crying," Bob replied harshly, "The son of a bitch scared her so bad that she wanted to buy some hyenas that the Gotham Zoo was trying to sell to the Metropolis Zoo. If I ever see the son of a bitch-"

"Joker told me that it was a woman pulling the strings," she informed him, "do you know any women that could have been obsessed with him? I never saw anything in his files that said that he had any sort of romantic relationships before?"

"I don't know," Bob answered, "His doc at the asylum and you are the only women that have been in his life since I've known him."

"Well, aren't I the lucky lady," Bagheera said with a roll of her eyes as the henchman handed her a round, white pain pill to ease the pain out of her head.

...

Ashley sat at the small desk in the large lecture hall at Gotham University. The young officer allowed her pencil to dance in her hand as her CJ professor lectured to the large class of eighty students. Her eyes looked down at the paper in front of her and shook her head as she looked at her scribbled notes and doodles. Jottings of the Batman symbol and the Joker's trademark smiles looked back at her between keywords from the chapter they were studying.

Thoughts of who could be the copycat killer rattled in her brain. She had pieced together that it had to be an important player during the Joker's rule of Gotham. The only suspects that were coming to her mind were Bagheera, the Batman, Gordon, and the Joker. She felt like she could trust Bagheera, who had kept her word to her father in bringing in the Joker, and her Jim Gordon. She understood who the Batman wanted to be in Gotham, and she felt like he would never do anything to bring harm upon an innocent civilian. The only person that was left was the Joker and he was locked away in Arkham Asylum. There simply wasn't any other person alive in Gotham City that knew intimate details about the Joker and she didn't want to believe that an officer of the law would go as far as killing civilians in an effort to bring down a fellow officer.

The young officer wished that things worked like they had in the movies and in novels. She wished that she could just visit her inner Clarice Starling or Will Graham to make the leap to connect the dots that had been missing from the puzzle.

"Can anyone tell me what the Blue Code of Silence is," her professor asked the lecture hall, "We briefly touched on it last week."

Ashley looked up from her notes and her thoughts pooled together to piece everything together.

"Isn't that were officers won't snitch on each other," someone in the front asked.

She silently listened on as her professor explained how hard it was to understand the percentage of police corruption because of the code of silence between officers and partners. Her mind quickly thought about how the two detectives had come to the conclusion that it was an officer that had gotten into the system to find out the information.

"Who is it," Ashley said under her breath as she pulled her things together and quickly exited out of her class forty minutes early, while knowing in the back of her mind that she would regret the early departure for the next test.

Mistrust fueled her legs forward as she hurried out of the Criminal Justice wing of Gotham University and towards the place where she knew she could think freely on her own. She looked to her phone and dialed the number of the one person that she knew could give her inspiration.

...

Detective Mark Hamill stood along the sidewalk. The sun was just coming down as he leaned against the wall. Cigarette smoke wafted on the breeze as he waited for his correspondent. His eyes moved around the scene that surrounded him. The Narrows were slowly coming alive as the resident vermin made their way out of their vermin ridden homes. He could easily tell who the criminals were from the hardworking men and women going to their second jobs from the way they held themselves when they walked out of their homes.

The cool November wind blew the tail of his jacket as he coolly leaned against the wall. He held the information close to his chest as he was told to do.

"What's the word Ham Hands," a high pitched female voice announced from the alley behind him. He rolled his eyes as the woman's irritating voice cut through his senses. Mark turned to face the woman hidden in the darkness of the alley and gave her a soft smile.

"So he's got you lurking in the street like a dentist with the ether," he asked as he took in the blonde woman dressed in clown make up. Her attire wasn't completely put together. She wore a simple red and black flannel skirt and a curve fitting black turtleneck.

"The make-up is spot on. The costume could use some work though," Mark suggested as he watched the brilliant psychiatrist glare at him through clown make up that resembled the Joker's own make up.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel rolled her eyes at his suggestion and replied in defense of her costume, "It's what I had to work with," her voice was screechy and her Jersey accent was thick, "Geez give a doc a break. I've been workin' non-stop for 26 hours!"

"Dr. Quin-"

"Ahh," Harleen announced in a warning as she placed a long finger upon the detective's lips, "No, no, no! Not in this get up! It's Harley Quinn."

"Isn't that what the Joker calls you," Mark asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," Harley asked, "So? Don't mean I'm workin' for him."

"But why would you ask for this," he asked as he pulled out a manila file that he had lifted from Gotham PD, "I mean, obviously he's in involved."

"And what's it to you," Harley asked as she yanked the file from his thick fingers that he had once used to throw winning touchdowns, "as long as you get what you need."

"I need to be reassured it won't be linked back to me," Mark informed her, "This is my career."

"Well, ya should have thought about that before ya made a deal for fifty thousand dollars then huh," Harley asked as she backed away from the detective.

"Is the Joker going to impede on what's going to happen," Mark asked of the costumed psychiatrist.

"And what if he does," Harley asked as she bit upon her lip.

"He'll be put down."

Harley laughed at his suggestion, "Ain't no one messin' with Puddin'. Especially some crooked low down cop like you."

"I was talking about the panther," Mark informed her with a devilish grin, "Detective Lewis. She's shot him once. I have faith that she'll do it again."

Harley returned his smile and asked, "So what makes you think she won't shoot you when she finds out you been skimming on the side of the bad guys? What makes you so special that she won't kill you, huh? You think you're safe because you are sending your take to some Make a Wish for the Rainforest charity thing?"

Mark felt anger grow inside of him as he looked down on the young psychiatrist. She had a point. If Bagheera found out that he had betrayed her, she wouldn't be very understanding, especially with what was going on in the streets. He had all the keys that could bring in the copycat killer, but he couldn't whip them out just yet. The detective had to bide his time until he could make his move.

"Thanks for the info Ham Hands," Harley announced happily as she threw him a brown bag of cash that she had been given for the exchange.

Mark watched in slight anger as the woman bounced away from him and disappeared into the darkness that was the alley ways of the Narrows.

...

The sounds of guns firing erupted through the underground gun range that resided under the old police station. Ashley held her gun high as she shot once again. She had been practicing for months and had yet to learn how to consistently shoot at the paper at the other end of the building.

She pulled the protective glasses off of her head as the paper target was pulled back to her. She could see the bullet holes that she had made as it came closer to her. She rolled her eyes as she looked at the bullet holes that riddled the paper. Only one bullet had hit the target and it had been a simple shot that grazed the edge of the paper man's shoulder. She pulled the noise reduction muffs off and glared at the inanimate object in anger.

"Damn," Ashley said in disappointment as she pulled another, clean target practice sheet out and placed it on the ring. She reloaded her pistol and sighed as she took a deep breath to calm her disappointment. She placed her protective

As she began to pull the muffs back on her head, she heard the sound of the door slamming in the distance. The sound of light footsteps filled the space between them, getting louder and louder as the visitor came closer and closer to her.

Ashley smiled as she watched her idol make her way towards her. She allowed the muffs to fall from her ears and upon her shoulders as Bagheera Lewis came up to her. The officer's eyes quickly moved to the bandaged up ear and concern quickly overtook her.

"What happened to you," Ashley asked.

Bagheera rolled her eyes at the question that she had been asked many times throughout the day, annoyance filled her voice as she replied, "I got shot at."

"You got shot," Ashley asked in disbelief as her eyes widened.

"No," Bagheera answered in defense of herself, "I was shot at. I'm fine."

"How'd it happen?"

"Occupational hazard. Gun shots, kidnappings, death threats, and stabbings are part of the job," Bagheera informed her. She watched as Ashley's eyes looked away from her and she quickly understood why the young woman had done so.

"I'm not ashamed of my scars," Bagheera informed her quickly, "I embrace them. Well for the most part," Bagheera offered the young officer a smile and she shrugged her shoulders, "well it was a little weird when I actually let Will see my scar. That was the only part that was slightly embarrassing, buy you get over it."

"Isn't it strange how men can have that effect," Ashley said, giving her own smile, "I've seen mangled corpses and the other night I was shaking like a leaf before I let my new boyfriend see me naked."

Bagheera chuckled at their shared experiences and moved to pull her side arm out to place it on the table, "How are you doing with this?"

"Eh," Ashley stated with a shrug, "I don't think I was cut out for shooting at people. I can't hit the damned target."

"Have you had anyone down here with you," Bagheera offered as she took in the young woman that had worked hard to get where she was, "to help teach you?"

"No, not really," Ashley admitted, "My partner has a family so he doesn't ever have the time."

"Well show me your style," Bagheera demanded as she stepped back from the officer. She didn't observe the rules of the gun range by placing safety glasses on or the noise reduction muffs on as she watched the future detective shoot at the paper target.

Bagheera watched as the girl stood in what seemed to be for her an uncomfortable and forced stance. She listened as the gun fired twice before she stopped her.

"Listen Ashley," Bagheera announced as she looked over to the young officer, "are you comfortable in that stance?"

"What," Ashley asked as she looked down at her stance and lowered her gun slightly.

"Okay so you are using an Isosceles stance," Bagheera informed her, "It's good, but not really perfect. You've heard of the Weaver stance?"

"Yeah."

"Well, let's modify that stance to fit you," Bagheera offered as she watched the young woman place herself in the Weaver stance, "now extend your arm; you want to do this to take advantage of your own body."

She smiled as the woman did as she said and shot at the target. She listened as the remaining bullets pierced the target in the appropriate places that could put a perp down.

Ashley smiled as the target came into view. A glow of pride came over her young features as she looked at the small bullet holes in the paper.

"Thanks," Ashley said happily, "it's not perfect, but it's better!"

"It's about what makes you comfortable," Bagheera informed her, "and remember you have to breathe when you take shots."

"I just," Ashley beamed, "just…wow! I can't believe I actually have it in me to bring someone down."

Bagheera smiled at the excited officer and recalled how happy she had been when her trainer had taught her how to stand with a weapon in her hand. It had changed her life when she learned how to bring a man down with a single bullet. It had given her a power surge in the knowledge that she could end a man's life if he stepped over the line.

"So what did you call me down into The Hole for," Bagheera asked as she looked around the old training area. She grabbed her side piece and placed it back in its home against her hip.

"I wanted to bring up something with you," Ashley answered honestly, "it was about something we've been studying in class."

"Yeah?"

"Have you heard of the Blue Code of Silence," Ashley asked.

"Well, I was known for skipping most of my CJ classes in college, but I think it rings a bell," Bagheera answered with a smug smile as she leaned against the dividing wall between the other training booth.

"So you said that it could be a cop," Ashley reminded her.

Bagheera eyed her carefully and said slowly, "I remember."

"What if it was a cop's partner? What if you suspected your partner in theory?"

Bagheera's brows furrowed as she looked the young police officer over. She knew the young woman had a lot to learn, but she had thought that this bit of information would have been something that would have been a given.

"Are you saying you can't trust your partner," Bagheera asked.

"No," Ashley answered in a hurried tone, "I trust him fine. But I'm just saying what if you didn't?"

"If you can't trust your partner, you get a new partner," Bagheera informed her quickly, "it's that simple."

"But what if you think that he-"

"You let IAB take care of it," Bagheera informed her, her voice was becoming harsh as she thought about having Mark potentially betraying her when she would threaten criminals, "you do not want anything to back fire on you. You got that?"

An awkward silence overcame the two women. Ashley lowered her gaze to the floor as she allowed her role models words of corrupted wisdom radiate through the grey matter of her brain.

"I get it," Ashley stated finally in an attempt to relieve the silence that had developed between the law enforcement officers.

Bagheera shook her head and said simply, "Look, I know you're new, but there is a code. It's a shitty code; yeah I'm not going to lie. But it's best that you can say you were ignorant of all knowledge than having an entire police department pissed off at you. Why are you asking?"

"Uhm," Ashley licked at her lips as she debated on telling the detective the missing dot that she had discovered, "I think your partner has something to do with what has been going on."

"What makes you think that," Bagheera asked as her eyes widened in slight disbelief. She had never once thought that her partner had anything to do with the events that had been going on in Gotham recently. They had been through so much that she was convinced that she would know when something was going on with him.

"You said it was a person with inside information," Ashley answered honestly, "I don't think it's you, so it has to be someone close to you and that knows things about how to not be found out."

"It's not Mark," Bagheera informed her in quick defense of her partner, "I've worked for him for too long. We can trust him. He's a good cop."

"Who else could it be," Ashley asked as he watched Bagheera walk away from her.

"I don't know," Bagheera admitted as she left the underground shooting range.

...

Bagheera found herself alone at her desk with only a single lamp and the screen saver from her computer as a light in her office. She could hear the other graveyard shift officers entering the building and cackling in laughter from the hallway. She ignored them as she looked at her desk. The words that Ashley Davies and Bob had told her rippled through her mind. Bob had told her it was a cop that had threatened his wife and Ashley had told her that she suspected Mark, though she had no evidence to support her suspicions.

She quickly moved the mouse on her computer and smiled as a picture of her soon to be husband and herself looked back at her from her computer background.

"I have no idea what the fuck is going on," she whispered in anger as she pulled up pictures of the Joker. She eyed him closely and shook her head as nothing came to her. She couldn't connect any dots with this copycat killer.

"I can't work like this," Bagheera whispered as she closed the pictures and looked down to her desk drawer where she kept the hard copies on every detail that involved the Joker. Her own observations had been placed inside the manila file; everything that had been involved in the copycat crimes had been in those files that she had kept safely hidden in her bottom desk drawer.

Bagheera felt a cold heat move through her as she looked down at the drawer. She wanted to believe that no one had gotten into her desk, but she knew the things that had been in those murders were contained within those files and in her mind.

Her hands shook as she eased herself towards the drawer. She took a deep breath as she prepared herself to open the drawer as if it was a band aid. She had been led to believe from her old grandmother that it was much easier to rip the band aid off quickly than suffering through the apprehension and that's how she had led her life for the most part.

The drawer pulled open with a loud bang as the back came in contact with the small pins that kept the drawer from falling out of its place. Bagheera's fingers quickly dug through the many files until she could touch the bottom file. The thickness of the file would tell her that it belonged to the Joker.

"Son of a bitch," Bagheera said in anger as her fingers pulled a thin file out from the bottom of the stack. She glared at the name on the file that glared back at her. The file that lay in her hand belonged to that of Jonathon Crane.

A small yellow sticky note in familiar handwriting said, "_Everything you need to know, you already know -J"_

A small knowing smile tugged at her lips as her fingers absently traced over his writing. The cryptic message reassured her as she looked out the window and into the wildness that was Gotham City. She shook her head as she wondered how Jonathon had snuck into her office to leave her the reassuring message or even if it had been her cousin that had slipped her the message.

But she knew that he had something to do with what was going on and he was going to supply her with information. Bagheera had two of the top surviving criminals in Gotham City at her fingertips that she could use to help her catch the copycat killer and the woman that was pulling the strings.

* * *

**So lots of information in this very long chapter. **

**So is Mark a bad guy or a red herring? Hmmm...if he's a red herring who else could it be?**

**Tell me your thoughts! :)**


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